Cats and Chrysanthemums
by DragonBlood-Katana
Summary: Kiku is caught up in what he's sure to be an eternal hell, in a small town wher almost no one ever comes or goes. But when the Greek students with an obsession with cats and an odd tendency to sleep all the time extends a helping hand, he accepts it. But when Kiku's hell catches up to him and invades his and Heracles' hard-won heaven, will he and Heracles make it through?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Kiku's POV

I hated it.

I hated waking up at least three times a weak next to _him._ I hated how I had learned how to read people's emotions so well to judge how much pain I'd be in later that night and the next morning. I hated that feeling of hopeless ness that had been haunting me since I was eight. I hated fearing everyone who so much as looked at me. I hated that I was afraid of returning to the place I was supposed to call home.

I reluctantly sat up, wincing as a sharp pain shot through my lower half. That was another thing I hated: the constant pain. Unfortunately, _he_ wasn't exactly what you could call gentle. Being careful not to wake _him_ up, I got out of the bed, shuddering as the cold air hit my bare skin. The one sort of okay thing about _him_ was the amount of body heat that _he_ created. At least I didn't freeze to death every time afterwards.

I made my way to the bathroom, limping because the pain was too intense otherwise. I closed the door behind me, avoiding looking into the mirror and turning on the shower. I winced as the sharp jets of water hit my skin, jabbing like needles into my already bruised flesh. I washed off slowly, methodically, trying to scrub off the feeling of _his_ touch. It didn't work. No matter how much I scrubbed, no matter how many times I scoured my skin, turning it red and raw with my effort, I could still feel _his_ greasy, revolting fingers on me.

I gave up eventually and turned the water off. As I stood in front of the mirror, I cringed at my reflection. Bruises covered me from the shoulders down, some yellow and nearly healed and some black and brand new. There were a few red marks from the night before that I knew would contribute to the painful, black and blue mess I had become. I hated it. I hated _him._

I hated myself.

I looked my reflection over, trying to see myself from the point of view of an outsider. I was small and delicate looking, skinny because of how little I tended to eat. My straight black hair and coffee brown eyes were from my Japanese heritage, as both my parents originated from Japan itself. What skin was undamaged was pale, soft, and smooth. My face was wiped carefully blank, betraying no emotion whatsoever. I wasn't muscular, more on the weak, even fragile side of life. I knew that most people only saw my weakness. Then again, there wasn't much else to me. I wasn't strong enough to resist the people at school who had been beating me around and taunting me since first grade. I wasn't strong enough to resist _him._

As I got dressed, my movements mechanical, I realized that I had already fallen into the routine from the year before. Get up early, shower even though I could never feel clean, get dressed, eat whatever I could force down, and go to school for six hours of lesser hell only return to the ninth circled of hell when I got back to the place I lived. I couldn't really call a place that I wanted to leave as soon as physically possible 'home.'

Great. First day of my freshman year of high school and I wasn't expecting it to be any different than the year before in middle school. Then again, I was still living in the same tiny town that I had been my entire life. Everybody knew everybody, and there was only one high school, so that meant that the same people who had been tormenting me since elementary school would be in the same school—again—as I was, along with the kids from the middle school in the next town over that I hadn't gone to who hadn't seen me since elementary school but had used me as their favored punching bag then. Now, _all_ of the assholes who liked pushing me around would be back in full force.

It wasn't like I didn't have any friends. Sure, there were only two of them, but they _were_ still my friends. Ludwig Beilschmidt, a strong, quiet German, and Feliciano Vargas, an excitable, very loud Italian. They were great people, but we had started drifting apart after Ludwig had started dating Feli. I was happy for them, and they did their best to make sure they didn't leave me out, but I still felt like a third wheel whenever we were together.

As I left the house, I had the painful feeling that that year would be different than all the previous ones. Knowing my life, it would probably take a turn for the worst. Then again, without Ludwig's unintentionally terrifying presence offering me a little bit of protection and with the return of fifty percent of the people who walked over me for kicks, there was a high chance of my hell not getting any better. With my luck, my high school years would be as brutal, if not worse than the rest of my life.

By the time I had reached that depressing conclusion, I had reached the front doors of Hetalia High. I took a shaky breath, preparing myself for the mental and physical pain I knew the day would bring, and joined the river of students entering the building to start the new school year.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Heracles' POV

I sighed and lifted my backpack a little higher on my shoulder. I just wanted to find my class and take a nap before school started. Unfortunately, it was my first day of freshman year in high school, and unlike everyone else, who had been living in that tiny little town in the middle of nowhere since they were born, I didn't know the place like the back of my hand. I had moved there from Greece halfway through the year before. Luckily, I had already been fluent in English, so there wasn't as much of a language barrier. Honestly, I liked it there, and people weren't assholes to me even though I was foreign. Then again, I was pretty sure there was only one American family even though we were in the U.S.

But, since I didn't know the town very well, I had never been inside the high school and had absolutely zero idea where my classes were.

I paused and looked around for a moment. There were a few vaguely familiar faces, but I didn't see anyone I knew well enough to ask for help from. I could've gone to find my boyfriends, Sadiq Adnan, but I was seeing more of him than was healthy, anyway, and he'd probably use it as a 'favor' that he'd make me repay later.

My eyes were drawn to the open door of the classroom across the hall from me. There were three people just inside the doorway: Francis Bonnefoy, a blonde French kid who had an annoying habit of hitting on anything that moved, and Ivan Braginski, an overly cheerful Russian who scared the living hell out of everyone due to his tendency to get violent in the blink of an eye. They had cornered a small, Japanese-looking boy and were laughing as he cowered away from them. He looked resigned, his eyes emotionless despite the pain I knew he had to be in, since Ivan kept kicking him in the ribs. It looked like it happened regularly to him.

If there was one thing I couldn't stand, as lazy and general apathetic toward the world as I usually was, it was bullies. People who used their social status or strength of power to hurt those who were smaller, weaker, poorer, than themselves. I didn't care that I didn't know him, but the Japanese kid wasn't standing up for himself, so I'd do it for him. I couldn't let him get hurt. I squared my shoulders and pushed away my fear of Ivan, marching determinedly across the hall and into the classroom.

Both Ivan and Francis tuned to look at me, but the smaller one on the floor just hung his head and curled in on himself, trying to make himself a smaller target. Was he… ashamed? Scared? Whatever it was, it was confirmation that that was what he knew as 'normal,' and that pissed me off.

I calmly walked between him and the two sophomores, blocking him from them. They looked surprised, and the Russian's smile faltered. My courage wavered for a moment; if Ivan stopped smiling that would definitely mean a trip to the hospital for me.

 _But they're hurting someone else._ I reminded myself, steeling my nerves.

"Heracles, what are you doing?" Ivan's overly cheerful voice sent shivers down my spine.

"Keeping you from beating this guy to a pulp," I kept my voice nonchalant, almost uncaring, but let some of my anger show through.

Francis' eyes widened slightly with incredulousness and Ivan's smile dropped a bit.

"What do you mean, _mon am?_ We're simply welcoming him back to school." Said Francis, his thick French accent almost suffocating his words.

"Then you should be done by now, right? It's just a simple greeting, after all." I heard a soft noise from behind me, almost like a laugh. Luckily for him, neither Francis nor Ivan seemed to have noticed.

On the other hand, the Russian had stopped smiling completely, a deadly glint in his violet eyes. _Shit._ He took a step toward me, but then a boy with wheat blonde hair, a cowlick, blue eyes, and glasses bounced energetically into the room, a McDonald's burger clutched in one hand. I vaguely recognized him as Alfred Jones, the singular American student in the school.

"Ivan, come on! You promised you'd get to class on time this year." Whined Alfred.

Ivan's sunny smile was back, and it seemed a bit warmer than when it was directed at anyone else. _"Da._ I was just on my way, Fredka."

Ivan happily trotted out after the American, Francis sighing in annoyance before following them. I turned around and knelt in front of the Japanese boy, setting a gentle hand on his shoulder. He flinched at my touch, looking up at me with wide eyes. The fear in his gaze faded after a moment when he realized I wasn't Ivan or Francis. He was still obviously weary of me, though.

"Are you alright?" I let my worry for him show in my voice, but it had gotten as quiet as it usually was, barely louder than a whisper. I didn't like using the extra effort it took to raise my voice louder than that. Talking that loud just made me more tired than usual.

He nodded, his eyes still wide as he stared up at me. It was then that I realized how cute he was, with his pale skin, porcelain features, and almost feminine physique. Even so, I couldn't help but notice how he leaned away from me slightly, how there were still traces of fear in his gaze.

"Hey, don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise." I said softly.

He only sighed and nodded again. I could only wonder how many people had told him that before, only to go against their word later, when they got tired of keeping their promise. Despite having only just met him, I had the odd urge to protect him at all costs. He just seemed so… scared, weak, fragile. So very out of place in the world, like a single flower still blooming among the dull greys of the aftermath of a forest fire.

I mentally slapped myself for that. I had just met him, for God's sake. Not okay to start having philosophical thoughts about him, no matter how beautiful he was.

"You're Heracles-san, right?" his voice, soft and tinged with a lilting, musical accent, as well as the honorific he added to my name, confirmed the fact that he was Japanese, at least in part.

I nodded in response to his question. "Yes, my name is Heracles Karpusi. What's yours?"

He looked surprised, like he hadn't expected me to care, much less actually ask. "Kiku. My name is Kiku Honda."

I smiled softly; somehow that name fit him. I didn't know what it meant, but it sounded soft and gentle, like I figured he was. I stood up and offered him my hand.

"Why don't we get off the floor then, Kiku? Probably wouldn't be the best if you were late on the first day."

He hesitantly took my hand, using it to bring himself to his feet. He wobbled for a moment before steadying, leaning heavily on one foot even though he was obviously tried to hide it. I wondered if those bastards had hurt his leg. I couldn't help but notice that he was trembling slightly, probably from the shock of the situation from before starting to kick in.

"What about you, Heracles-san? Don't you need to get to class, too?" He sounded slightly frantic, like he was worried that I'd get in trouble because of him.

I smiled sheepishly. "I don't know where my classes even are. I moved here from Greece less than a year ago, so I don't know my way around quite yet."

Kiku looked mildly surprised, like he hadn't heard I'd moved there. Then again, with the way people seemed to treat him around there, he probably wasn't exactly hearing all that much gossip, even if it was a tiny town.

"Ah. I'll show you, then, at least until you remember where they are. I-if that's alright, that is." His voice wavered and he looked down, like he was afraid of my reaction.

Instead of whatever he was expecting, I smiled gratefully and pulled the folded piece of paper with my schedule printed on it from my back pocket, holding it out to him. "Thanks, Kiku. I'd like that, if it's not too much trouble for you."

He shook his head, almost smiling, and gently took it from me. He unfolded it and his eyes widened as read it once, twice. He slowly lowered it, and I could've sworn that he was blushing at least a little bit as he looked back up at me.

"Looks like it'll be easy, then. You have the same schedule as I do."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Kiku's POV

I chewed anxiously on my lower lip as I hurried along the street, looking around carefully to make sure no one was around. I knew that almost everyone had heard about what had happened that morning, and that Francis and Ivan would probably be looking for a chance to finish what they had started.

I couldn't help but flush in embarrassment as I remembered how Heracles had saved me. I hadn't known someone had moved into town, much less that they were from Greece, so when I had looked up and seen an unfamiliar face I had immediately prepared for it to get worse. The new ones were always the worse because they were hurting me to prove that they were like everyone else. But when my gaze had met him and I had had a chance to search out his intentions in his almost too-green eyes, I had seen something I had almost forgotten existed in my life.

Kindness.

Most of the time, people looked at me with hatred or disgust, or twisted enjoyment when they were harassing me. Even Ludwig and Feli only held pity for me, fondness at the very most. But Heracles… somehow, Heracles was different.

My thoughts were interrupted by the wrought iron gate that was the entrance to the place I needed to be. I pushed it open, the silence in the air seeming to thicken as I closed it carefully behind me. I took my time as I walked past the rows and rows of stones. Some were older, chipped with age and worn with time, while others were new and freshly cut, their lines still sharp against the air. It was the newer ones I lowered my eyes from, because I couldn't help but hurt for them. So many people. So many. Names, faces, families, lives, all of it gone in an instant, only to be remembered by those who would join them beneath the ground in ten, twenty, thirty years.

The grave I was looking for was in the back. I had had it put there so it would be harder to find—harder to vandalize. He didn't deserve to be as disrespected and looked down on in death as he had been in life, especially not when he had died the way he did.

I kneeled in front of the stone slab standing out of the ground that was the only proof that the last person who had truly cared about me had ever existed. I reached out my hand, hating the way my fingers still shook as I traced the letters carved into the cold granite. I hated how the name still seemed to drive knives into my heart. I hated how the two dates that marked his seventeen years of life still made my throat close. I hated how the words beneath that, the words _I_ had chosen, still made me choke on tears.

 _Yao Wang_

 _October 1, 1990—December 25, 2007_

 _Zuídàdí gēgē hé péngyŏu zuì shànliáng_

Yao. My adopted brother from China, older than me by nine years. He and I had been almost closer than twins, and I had trusted him with everything. He had always protected me, from _him_ and from the people at school.

But one day I had come home from a day of first grade and found him dead on the bathroom floor. Well, not quite dead, but… I didn't want to think about that. Being an eight-year-old, I hadn't really known what had happened, but I did know that my brother was gone and never coming back. It had hurt worse because it was the night of Yao's funeral that _he_ turned his attention to me. I only realized later that Yao had been taking the abuse, the taunts, to shield me from the hateful place the world was.

I shook my head as if I could dislodge those thoughts from my mind. Since the funeral, I had visited Yao's grave on important days—first days of school, holidays, birthdays—or when I just needed to talk and talk and talk until I had gotten whatever was stressing me out or confusing me out in the open so I could sort through it with more method to the madness. That was one of those days. I took a shay breath and lowered my hand, clasping it with the other in my lap.

"Hey, Yao. The first day of school just ended. I'm a freshman now, did you know that?"

To anyone else, I would've sounded insane. I was talking to the piece of rock standing over the bones of my dead bother, after all, rambling about anything from my teachers to how horrible the weather had been lately—that was the first day it hadn't rained in almost a month.

Eventually, though, I did have to face it. I had to say something about what had happened with a certain green-eyed Greek, or I'd never say a word.

"So… this morning, I ran into Francis and Ivan again." I sighed softly and shifted, pulling my knees up and hugging them to my chest. "Don't worry, I'm fine. Ivan just kicked me a couple times, nothing major. But… the strangest thing happened. They didn't do much, because someone… stopped them. Someone stood up for me, and he didn't even know me." I started to smile as I remembered his casual comebacks and subtle insults that had had Ivan and Francis reeling. "It was actually kind of funny, Yao. They were… well, shocked. The thing is, when they left and he turned around to actually talk to me, he wasn't loud, he didn't lecture me on how I should stand up for myself, he wasn't rude at all. He was very… quiet, I guess. He reminded me a bit of a cat, because he kept falling asleep in class. But… it was so crazy. When he touched me—just on the shoulder, to try to comfort me—it was almost like he shocked me. Not like anyone else. Not like the people at school, definitely not like… like _him._ It was… It was kind of nice, actually." I groaned and buried my face in my hands, shaking my head. "What am I saying, Yao? Once he knows a bit more about me, he'll be just like everyone else. Even if he doesn't turn out like that, he's probably completely forgotten about this morning already. Still…" I sighed again. "He was kind, Yao. Not kind out of pity, like Ludwig or Feli, just… kind. It's hard to explain."

I fell silent, lost in my thoughts for a moment. I kept replaying those few minutes over and over in my head, trying to figure out why I wanted to treasure the memory for the rest of my life. Maybe because, even if it was just a moment, it felt almost like someone cared. For a moment, I had felt almost safe. Safety was something I hadn't had the luxury of since Yao died.

"I miss you, Yao. I need to go now, though, or I'll be late." I stood up as I spoke, brushing myself off.

I hesitated for a moment before walking away. I almost wanted to stay longer, to talk about how _he_ had been treating me worse and worse lately. Before summer had started, I had been forced to sleep with him once, maybe twice a week if I was really unlucky. Now, was at least three times a week, bare minimum. I was scared, to be honest. The look of pure lust and possessiveness in his eyes every time he looked at me was terrifying.

I got back to the house in less than two minutes. I was glad the cemetery was so close to my house; my curfew was five o'clock and if I was late I'd be in a lot of pain when I did get home.

As I stepped through the door, I felt a sharp impact across my face, pain blossoming in my cheek. I fell to the floor, landing painfully on my side. I curled in on myself, hiding my head from the onslaught of kicks that came next. When it stopped, _he_ grabbed me roughly by the collar of my shirt, yanking me up so that _his_ eyes were level with mine. _He_ was taller than me, so the tips of my feel just barely brushed the ground. The smell of alcohol on _him_ was making me gag.

"You little bitch," _he_ growled. "You're late,"

My eyes widened and I looked over at the clock hanging on the wall. It was only 4:52. It wasn't five yet. I wasn't late. I couldn't be.

 _He_ smirked, obviously knowing where I was looking. "Your curfew is four thirty now."

 _Shit._ I wanted to protest that _he_ hadn't told me, that I hadn't known, so it wasn't a valid excuse to do anything to me. But I knew it would only make _him_ angrier, and that I would end up in worse pain. So, instead of blurting out my emotions, I sunk into my mind, forcing my thoughts to wander to anything but the situation. Sometimes, doing that helped me deal with all the pain _he_ inflicted on me.

Luckily for me, _he_ seemed to be in a decent mood that night, probably due to the influence of alcohol. _He_ dropped me, uncaring as I crumpled to the floor with a heavy thud. "Since I forgot to tell you this morning, I'll be nice and not punish you tonight. But if you're ever so much as a second late ever again, I'll make sure it hurts. Understood, little bitch?"

I nodded, forcing back the tears of pain prickling at the back of my eyes. "Yes, Father,"

 _He_ nodded and sent one last kick into my ribs as _he_ walked past me to the refrigerator, presumably to get yet more alcohol. I was honestly surprised _he_ was able to keep a job, with as much as _he_ drank. "Good. Then go do your homework. I expect dinner at six thirty, at the latest."

I scampered upstairs to my bedroom, hating hos obedient to his will I was. As I sat with my back against the door, I couldn't hold back anymore. I curled in on myself, burying my face in my arms as I let the tears slide down my cheeks. I pressed a hand to my mouth to muffle my sobs, not wanting _him_ to hear. If I made any noise that drew _his_ attention, I'd only get hurt. I hated how weak I was. I hated how easy it was for him to bring me to tears.

I hated how the first thought in my head was the question of how Heracles would react if he knew.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Heracles' POV

I leaned back against the tree, unable to keep a soft smile off my face as I watched Kiku pet a stray orange tabby cat he hand lured to him. We were sitting on the grass in the park, enjoying the peace and the warmth of the sunlight. It was nice; the weather was perfect and there was a light breeze.

The last couple of weeks had been… well, interesting to put it lightly. I had made an effort to befriend Kiku, and he seemed surprise but accepted it all the same. I had slowly gotten to know him, and he had slowly, tentatively, begun to learn to trust me. We had skipped classes almost daily, sitting in the classroom where we had first met. All we did was talk, but I was slowly beginning to draw emotion from the secluded Japanese boy. At first, he had been quiet, carefully muting every emotion and reaction he had. I had almost wanted to scream in triumph the first time I had made him laugh. Over the last fortnight, thought, he had slowly begun to show me more and more of who he really was.

Of course, Sadiq was mad at me for spending so much time with Kiku, but I refused to think about that.

I chuckled softly as the cat Kiku was petting licked his hand. "She likes you. You're good with cats."

He smiled shyly at me, pushing a strand of his straight black hair behind his ear. "Not as good as you, apparently."

I looked to the side and laughed. At least five cats were sitting next to me, meowing and prodding at me with their little paws as they begged me for attention. I would've been lying if I had said I was surprised. Cats tended to flock to me, and I couldn't for the life of me figure out _why._ I had lost count of the number of times I had fallen asleep outside and woken up with a dozen or more cats all over me.

I smiled over at Kiku, who I could tell was restraining a laugh. He still sometimes fell into the habit he had grown of hiding his emotions far, far away from the outside eye.

"It's not on purpose. It's like I'm a magnet or something. They must find me stunningly attractive." I kept my usual monotone even as I joked.

That did make him laugh. It was short, almost a giggle, and he hid his smile behind his hand, but it was still there. I was glad I was able to start drawing Kiku out of the lonely, terrified shell he had built over the years. That thought gave me an idea.

"Hey, Kiku, do you have a phone?"

He looked surprised but nodded. "Yes. Why do you ask?"

I pulled my own cell phone from my back pocket and held it up. "We could exchange phone numbers. You know, so we could talk outside of school."

His face was tinged slightly pink as he nodded again and handed me his phone. I gave him mine and typed my name and number into the already-open contacts screen. To my surprise, he only had one other contact saved, and it was unlabeled. I couldn't help but wonder as I handed his phone back who it was, but I didn't ask. He smiled at me, and all other thoughts in my head flew out the window.

"Thanks, Heracles-sa—Heracles," I chuckled softly; I was working on breaking him of his habit of talking to me so formally.

"You're welcome, Kiku,"

As he went to put his cell phone back into the side pocket of his bag, it began to ring. Confused, he looked at the screen and all of the blood drained from his face, leaving him pale and ghostly.

"O-one second, Heracles," his voice shook as he pressed answer and put the phone to his ear.

I couldn't help but be nervous. Who was calling him that made him so scared? Was it that unnamed person? His hands were shaking. Screw that, his entire body was trembling. His eyes were wide, his breath coming in heavy gasps. Why was he so scared?

"Yes, I understand," he spoke so quietly I could barely hear him.

He hung up and shoved it into the pocket, fumbling in a state of near panic for the strap of his bag. "Heracles, I—I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I—I have—I have to go,"

He was tripping over his words as he stammered an apology. Before I could ask what was wrong, he had run off, looking almost terrified.

I sighed, setting my pencil down and pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes. It was elven at night, and I needed to get my homework done, but I couldn't find it in me to focus on finding the measures of central angles of circles when Kiku's face kept surfacing in my thoughts. By then, I couldn't figure out if the tears I had seen him trying to repress as he ran away had been real or if they had been conjured by my overactive imagination.

As I was about to renew my absolutely pointless efforts to finish my hellish geometry homework, my cell phone rang loudly. I picked it up, sighing, hoping it wasn't Sadiq. I didn't have the patience at the time to deal with his unnecessary loudness. When I saw the caller ID, though, a jolt of surprise ran down my spine, mixed with a worried tightness in my chest that made it kind of hard to breathe.

I answered the phone; I couldn't help but be nervous. What had happened that Kiku felt the need to call me so late at night?

"Kiku?"

"D-did I wake you? I—I'm sorry…"

Kiku's voice was shaky and panicked. He sounded like he had been—or still was—crying. It physically hurt to hear him sound so scared, so weak, so… broken.

"No, I was still awake. What's wrong, Kiku? Are you alright?" I chewed anxiously on my lower lip, hoping that he trusted me enough to tell me what was going on.

"I'm fine, Heracles,"

I knew he was lying; no one sounded the way he did without something happening. "Are you sure? You sound upset. Is there anything I can do?"

I heard a soft rustle, like he had shifted on the bed, and he whimpered in pain. "I'm fine, really, Heracles. But, if you really want to…" He hesitated for a moment, and his next words were rushed, like he was afraid he'd lose the courage to say them. "Talk to me."

I blinked in surprise; whatever I had been expecting, that was not it. Talk to him? What did he mean by that? And why did he sound like he had regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth?

"Kiku, what's wrong? Are you hurt?" I pressed the matter, needing to know. He was… well he was my only actual friend, and I desperately wanted to protect him.

"Please, Heracles,"

He sounded so small, so alone. I couldn't find it in me to keep pressing him, no matter how afraid for him I was. I couldn't help but worry that I'd say one thing wrong and make him start crying again, or hurt him worse than he already obviously was.

"Alright. It'll be okay, Kiku." I spoke gently, offering probably meaningless reassurance even though I didn't know what I was comforting him about.

"I'm fine, Heracles. I just… Just talk." He sighed softly.

I forced back my concern and focused on what he was asking for. If that was what I could do to comfort him, that was what I would do.

"What do you want me to talk about?"

I don't care. Anything. I just…" He trailed off, obviously holding himself back from saying something. I wanted to ask about it, but I restrained myself.

"Alright," I paused for a moment, then started.

I talked about whatever came to mine. I talked about everything from the stray cats that I kept taking in to my memories of Greece to my homework. I rambled endlessly, the words flowing unnaturally at first. I wasn't used to having to be the one to fill every moment of silence with words. So many words. So many useless, loud words. But Kiku needed them, so I didn't let myself fall silent no matter how much I wanted to. I talked and I talked and I talked, speaking aimlessly about pointless things.

It worked, though. After about half an hour, the soft whimpers and sniffles of pain from Kiku stopped, and eventually he even began to laugh occasionally. At about one, two hours after his initial call, he yawned softly, stopping me mid-sentence.

"Get to sleep, Kiku. You need it." I spoke softly, trying not to sound too overbearing.

"You're right. Thank you so much, Heracles. For everything."

I smiled softly; he was always so polite, like he was afraid of offending me. "Of course, Kiku. That's what friends are for."

"Yeah. Good night, Heracles. Make sure you get some sleep, too, okay?"

His words drew a soft chuckle, my lips curling into the grin that only he could cause. "I will, Kiku, don't worry. Good night."

I heard a click from Kiku's end and knew he had hung up, hopefully to go to sleep. He always seemed so exhausted, like relaxing enough to sleep was hard for him. I suddenly felt drained, like all my energy had disappeared in one fell swoop. I was barely able to close the call and put my phone away before collapsing on the bed, falling asleep before I had any time to ponder Kiku's late night phone call.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Kiku's POV

The months passed slowly, ever so slowly, and yet so fast. Everything was repetitive, monotonous, following the same greyscale pattern as the rest of my life did. _He_ had gotten worse and worse, to the point where there were very few nights that I was not being held down, pain coursing like acid through my veins throughout the night and the morning afterwards. _He_ had long since stopped being careful with my body, but that was just _his_ pure, undiluted cruelty. School was still hell, but I could bear it now.

There was one spot of color, one rock anchoring calm into the chaotic, fiery river of my life. Heracles. Even the thought of him made my chest feel warm, made my heartbeat speed up. When I was with Heracles, I could delude myself into believing that I was safe. With Heracles, I could let myself relax. I could be happy. I couldn't explain it. Everything about the Greek who had somehow become closer to me than I thought possible baffled me.

It had quickly become a habit to call Heracles after _he_ had his way with me. His voice had an almost instant affect, dulling the past and clear my mind and calm my heart down only to have it start racing again, for entirely different reasons. Every time he touched me, the feeling of his fingers on my skin lingered. It didn't feel like anyone else's, though. When anyone else even came close to touching me, I'd cringe away, flashbacks of _his_ greasy, slimy hands on my body filling my mind. With Heracles, though, I could almost forget about _him,_ even though I had been very careful to watch the time almost obsessively after that one night that I had been late. I could still hear _his_ threats, the promises whispered over the phone that had ended with me not being to move for hours afterward, spending those hours wondering how to face the world again after being so thoroughly humiliated. Somehow, though, Heracles had made it seem like someday, I'd be okay again. That someday, I could be safe.

Of course, I immediately dismissed thoughts like those. They were nothing but foolish, unrealistic, childish dreams that I knew would never happen. I was too weak, too useless, too broken. Even if Heracles took me away from that place, he'd get tired of me quickly and I'd wind up right back where I started. And, even if that didn't happen, the real world would beat me to a pulp in days. I could never be free.

Still, I couldn't help but almost wish that Heracles would find out what _he_ was doing to me and get me out.

Before I realized it, it was the week before winter break. Usually, I dreaded the holidays. I couldn't remember the last time there'd been a Christmas tree in the house, much less the last time Yao of I'd gotten an actual present. _He_ was always too busy abusing me or Yao, and neither my brother nor I had been able to afford anything beyond a piece of chocolate on Christmas Eve, if we were lucky. But the Monday before the break, I found myself anticipating it.

 _He_ had a business trip that would require _him_ to leave that Wednesday and return the Tuesday after winter break. That gave me almost two full weeks without _him,_ and a little bit more freedom. I would maybe be able to do something, even spend a day or two with Ludwig and Feliciano.

 _Or with Heracles._

I forced that thought from my mind and ignored the way my heart did somersaults when I saw Heracles leaning against the wall outside the school. He had made it a point to wait for me there every single day, and not once during the school day did he leave my side. As a result, most people left me alone, at least until they caught me alone after school hours. Still, it was nice to think that he was making a conscious effort to offer me some form of protection.

I walked up to him, forcing my usual stoic mask into place so I wouldn't let him know how happy I was just being around him. I couldn't tell if the warmth in my chest and the almost-nervousness in bubbling in my stomach every time I saw him were merely platonic. It had been so long since I had had someone to call a real friend that I didn't have anything to compare it to. It gave me an odd feeling when his oh-so-green eyes met mine. It was like he was staring into my soul. Sometimes it felt like he could see everything: all my fears, all my pain, all the hell I went through at school, every single thing _he_ did to me.

The concept of Heracles knowing what went on in the house I lived in made me weak at the knees, filling me with a raging storm of emotions. Hope that he'd find out. Fear that he would. Doubt that he'd care if he knew. Certainty he would. Anxiety that he'd abandon me like so many others had before. Worry that he'd think I was disgusting. Panic that he'd try to blend into the crowd and end up in my nightmares like Ivan and Francis and the rest.

Somehow, though, every time I saw him, my doubts and worries and fears all melted away. Every time his eyes met mine, every time he gave me that sweet half smile that made my heart flutter strangely, I felt like everything would be alright. That everything would get better. That he'd make me everything okay. That as long as I was with him, I would be safe.

 _Safe._ It had been so long since that word applied to me, I had almost forgotten what it meant. At home, _his_ presence was always looming over me like a dark cloud that held a smoldering ember of rage that could burst into a full-blown flame at any moment. At school, my skin crawled with all the glares my peers—if they could even be called that—gave me, and I felt suffocated by their unreasonable hatred of me. But Heracles seemed surrounded by a bubble of calm that shielded me from the terrifying chaos that was my daily life.

The day passed calmly, but it didn't suppress the feeling like my chest was going to burst in excitement. I was aching for _him_ to leave, so I could relish the almost two weeks that I was guaranteed to have free and painless, barring any run-ins with the people from school. I clung to the hope and the tiny dose of happiness that life had mercifully granted me. The emotions were so rare in those days that I felt the need to treasure them as much as my own soul.

As Heracles and I walked to the park, just like we did every day, I was surprised to hear him speak before I did. He was usually even quieter than me, and we could spend hours in comfortable silence without a word exchanged between. It was one of the reasons I like being around him so much. He didn't feel the incessant need to fill every moment of silence with unnecessary words.

"So, what are your plans for the break?" his voice was soft and monotone, but he sounded genuinely interested.

I merely shrugged in response. I honestly had no idea what I'd do without having to walk on eggshells to avoid as much pain from _him_ as possible. _Maybe I'll draw something. It's been so long since I've been able to draw… I miss it._

"Oh. Are you spending time with family?"

"No. I only live with my father, and he's leaving on a business trip to Japan on Wednesday. He won't be coming back until the Tuesday after break." I said, shaking my head.

He looked mildly alarmed, and for a moment I was scared that I had said something wrong. I forced myself to relax; it was Heracles. He'd never do something like that to me.

"So you're going to be all alone during the break?" I nodded; wondering where the conversation was going.

"That sucks,"

I shrugged; usually I was trying to be alone during the holidays so I wouldn't be in as much pain by the end. Being alone was something that I had gotten used to a long time ago.

"What about you, Heracles?" I tried to stop myself from hoping he wasn't doing anything. Maybe I'd be able to invite him over if he didn't have any plans.

The thought of spending Christmas with Heracles made me feel almost giddy.

He smiled softly, like he had just remembered something that made him happy. "I'm going to go visit my family in Greece."

I hated how my heart sunk in disappointment. "Oh. That sounds wonderful." I carefully kept my emotions from bleeding into my voice.

We walked in silence for a few moments, arriving at the park and sitting down beneath a tree before Heracles spoke again. "Would you like to come with me, Kiku?"

I was confused for a second before I realized what he was asking. He was inviting me to go with him to _Greece,_ to meet his _family._ To spend a week in a completely different country that I had always dreamed of visiting with people who were probably a lot like him. _A whole family of Heracleses_

"To… Greece? Are you sure? I don't want to intrude…" I was hoping beyond hope that he had meant what he offered.

"Of course I want you to come with me. If you were going to be intruding on anything, I wouldn't have asked. Besides, it was my mom's idea in the first place."

My eyes widened as I looked up at him. He looked deadly serious but there was a gentle, calming smile in his eyes. If it had been his mom's idea to bring me over, that would mean that Heracles had told her at least a little bit about me. The thought that Heracles talked to his family about me brought a light blush to my cheeks.

"Oh…"

As I opened my mouth to say yes, I hesitated. If I tried to get permission, _he'd_ say no and beat me for even so much as suggesting leaving. If I left without saying anything and _he_ found out, I might have ended up dead. But… I'd always wanted to go to Greece, and it was Heracles asking. And yet, my fear of _him_ kept me from agreeing outright.

I hated my weakness.

"I'll have to get permission. But yes, I'd love to go with you, Heracles. I'm honored. Thank you so much." I said that only to but myself a little time to decide what I was going to do. I was torn between Heracles and my own safety.

The smile he gave me almost broke my resolve right there. Almost.

Ten minutes later, I stood in front of my brother's grave, trying to collect my thoughts. I had told Heracles that I had something important to do and ignored how reluctant I was to leave him I knew that if I didn't do it the, I never would. I hadn't been visiting my brother nearly as much as I should have been, since I had been spending so much time with Heracles. I felt guilty about it, but I knew Yao wouldn't have held it against me.

"Hi, Yao. Sorry I haven't talked to you lately. I've… well, I've been with Heracles. Speaking of Heracles, something amazing just happened. Really amazing, actually. He… invited me over for winter break. In _Greece._ He wants me to spend Christmas with him and his family in _Greece. Greece,_ Yao. I've always wanted to go to Greece. But… I haven't been able to answer him yet. I don't know if I should. If _he_ found out… I could die. But I want to go, Yao. I really, really want to go with him. I just… Even though Father has a business trip for most of the break, I'm terrified. I mean, what if he came back early and I wasn't there? What if someone told him where I had gone? What if… oh god, what if he found out and hurt Heracles? I can deal with it when he's doing those things to me; I've gotten used to the pain. But if Heracles got mixed into this… I couldn't bear it if he got hurt for me."

I took a deep breath, clasping my hands together to keep them from shaking. "You should have seen the way he looked at me when I said I wanted to go. He looked at me like I was a saint. Like I was the world to him. No one… No one's ever looked at me like that, Yao. I feel horrible. I don't want to stay here, I really don't. I want to go and see what a real family is like. I want to have a real Christmas. I want to be with Heracles. God, I want to be with Heracles. I know it's horribly selfish of me, but… He makes me happy. He makes me so happy. I… I feel safe around him, Yao. It's so strange, but I feel almost empty when he's not around. I want to be safe, Yao. I really do."

I paused, taking a moment to ponder over what I had just said. It was all true. Every word.

"You know what, Yao? I think that I'm going to let myself be selfish, just this once. I think… I'm going on that trip. I'm going to spend the holidays with Heracles and his family."

I smiled and pulled my cell phone from the side pocket of my backpack. When I opened my contacts, it was hard to ignore the tingle of warmth the sight of his name sent down my spine. I opened the text window, typing in three words and sending the message that, at the time, I didn't know would tilt my whole word onto its side.

 _I can go._


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Kiku's POV

As I stood nervously with Heracles at the airport, I looked around and stepped a little closer to him. I didn't like crowds, especially crowds of strangers. My heart was pounding, my breath coming in short, ragged little gasps. It felt like the people around me were going to suffocate me with their very presence. But when Heracles' arm brushed against mine, I felt like I could breathe again.

We eventually made it onto the plane, sitting in the very back row. He gave me the window seat, so I sat down and placed the sketchbook I was carrying in my lap. I made the mistake of looking out the window and vertigo almost instantly overwhelmed me. We were just so _high._ I quickly averted my gaze, clenching my hands together in a frantic attempt to keep Heracles from seeing how badly they were shaking. I had never been good with heights, and flying in a plane was probably one of the worst situations I had been in. When I had accepted Heracles' offer, I had never thought about the fact that we would be flying there. But I refused to back down, so I studiously kept my gaze anywhere but the window. I didn't want to close it, in case Heracles asked questions, so I just avoided it completely. That strategy worked pretty well, and I was able to keep my fear of heights suppressed and mostly ignored.

Well, at least for the most part. About five hours into the flight, the plane rocked and shuddered a bit. Barely minutes afterward, the pilot started talking over the intercom. I could only hear the sound of my blood rushing in my ears. Through it, I could only distinguish a few words and broken phrases. _Turbulence. Last a few hours. Remain calm._ I looked out the window despite myself, and my heart plummeted as I saw the grey clouds surrounding the plane.

Suddenly, the walls seemed to be closer, the space between the outside world and I felt smaller. I could feel every single patch of rough wind vibrate through the plan, like I was hyperaware of every movement. Suddenly, I realized just how dangerous a situation I was in. I was thousands of feet about the ground, in a heavy hunk of hollow metal, kept in the air by a combination of a little bit of physics and a lot of pure luck. If even a single thing went wrong, the entire plane could go haywire. We could all _die._

I started to shake and wrapped my arms around myself to try to hide it. I closed my eyes to make the world stop spinning. _Why is the world spinning?_ Oh god. Oh god, were we falling? A thousand scenarios started running through my head, most of them entertaining plane crashes ending in fire, blood, pain, and a lot of death. My heart was pounding almost painfully in my chest and I could feel beads of cold sweat roll down my face, leaving icy trails on my skin. My breath had been reduced to short, jagged breaths, trying to dilute the panic rushing through my mind even though I logically knew that hyperventilating would really only make it worse.

Unfortunately, my reaction to the pilot's announcement didn't go unnoticed by Heracles. A gentle hand rested lightly on my shoulder and I couldn't help my instantaneous instinct to flinch away from him. He pulled back but leaned closer, just close enough that I could feel his breath brush across my ear when he spoke.

"Kiku, are you alright? What's wrong?" His voice was soft and gentle and kind, but I couldn't respond. I felt like I couldn't breathe, and I was unconsciously clenching my hands around my arms so hard that I could feel my nails digging into my skin. The pain helped bring my focus away from my fear just enough that I could shake my head in response to his words.

Warm hands enveloped my own, gently uncurling my fingers and pulling them away from my arms. "Don't do that, Kiku. You'll hurt yourself."

I shuddered as Heracles' warmth seemed to spread up my arms, burning on my skin like gentle fire. Still, it couldn't quite break through the panic building in my chest. Why was it getting worse? Wasn't it supposed to go away after one or two minutes? It felt like an eternity.

Gentle arms wrapped around my too-thin shoulders and pulled me against a warm but solid body. At that, I finally did open my eyes, finding the green cotton of Heracles' shirt less than an inch from my face. I had to squeeze my eyes shut, though, when the world started spinning again. I could feel Heracles' very presence starting to calm me down little by little, warm and solid and gentle and _safe._ One of his hands held me close, a soft pressure in the center of my back. The other was on my head, long, warm fingers threading through my hair. It was comforting, and I found myself unconsciously leaning into him. He murmured softly in my ear, but I was still too terrified to actually focus on what he was saying.

Somehow, he noticed it. He pulled away just enough to be able to look me in the eye, his hands moving up to cup my cheek. Heracles' skin was warm against mine, and his eyes were very intensely green. His thumbs stroked across my cheekbones, leaving burning trails along my icy skin. It was a pleasant burn, though, not like the fiery agony that _he_ inflicted on me on a regular basis.

"Kiku. Kiku, calm down. It's alright. You're safe. I won't let anything happen to you. I promise. Calm down. Breathe, Kiku. Just breathe." Long, tender fingers brushed my hair behind my ear, but Heracles' eyes never left mine. His gaze was gentle but firm, silently giving me soft and steady support.

And, slowly, it began to work. We sat like that for another two or three minutes, Heracles' gentle touch slowing my racing heartbeat and calming my whirling mind. After what I figured was about fifteen minutes, I had stopped shaking and my breathing had evened out. However, now I was fully aware of how close to Heracles I was, my cheeks tinting pink with embarrassment. I had just had a panic attack, or something close to it, and Heracles had seen it. He had had to help me through it. A wave of shame washed over me; I hated that Heracles had seen my weakness.

"Thank you, Heracles. I'm sorry you had to see that."

He looked startled, then shook his head vehemently. "Don't apologize, Kiku. You have nothing to be sorry for. If anyone is at fault, it would be me."

"W-what? How was that your fault?" I was stunned. How on Earth did he figure that he was to blame?

"Well, that was caused by the turbulence, right?" I nodded silently. "Well, wouldn't that mean that you're afraid of flying?" I nodded again. "If I hadn't chosen to take a plane, this wouldn't have happened."

It was my turn to shake my head incredulously. Without thinking, I grabbed his hands, which had dropped from my face, and clutched his fingers tightly in my own.

"Heracles, that was _not_ your fault. Not at all. You didn't know. And besides, if I wasn't so weak, my fears wouldn't have been able to control me like that."

His hands tightened around mine. I shivered as he ran his thumbs over my knuckles, partly because of the drying sweat that was making me cold and partly because of the electric tingles the motion sent up my spine. Seeing it, Heracles pulled me close again, his strong, warm arms wrapping gently around me. I leaned into him, grateful for the warmth and kindness he always gave me so readily. I could feel myself blushing furiously as he leaned in close and whispered softly in my ear.

"You are not weak, Kiku. You are one of the strongest people I know. Have a little more confidence in yourself, okay? Nobody as weak as you say you are could ever survive years and years of people treating you the way they do."

My eyes widened, then slid shut as I smiled softly and wrapped my arms around his torso. That had been the nicest thing anyone had ever said to me, and it somehow meant even more to me to know that that was what Heracles thought of me.

"Thank you. That's… that means a lot to me."

He responded by gently tightening his grip. Eventually, I fell asleep against him, and he didn't let go of me until it was time to get off the plane almost eight hours later.

Not once did I notice whatever turbulence there may have been.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Kiku's POV

The airport in Athens was thankfully not very crowded. On the other hand, that was probably because the building was just so _huge._ Everything there made me feel tiny—the billboards showing flight times, the glass ceiling arching over my head, even the people were almost twice my height. I figured it was because I was from Japan, and small for my age, but I still didn't like feeling so small and insignificant.

Heracles seemed to notice how uncomfortable I was with the situation and wrapped an arm gently around my shoulders. For a moment, I entertained the idea that he had other reasons for pulling me closer to his side, but quickly banished them. It would be a bad idea to entertain such delusions. Besides, even if I did ever have… that kind of relationship with Heracles—or anyone else, for that matter—it would end in nothing but pain for me and the other person as soon as _he_ found out.

 _No._ I shook my head slightly to clear my mind. I wouldn't let myself think of things like that, not when I was finally in Greece. I was in _Athens,_ for God's sake. There was no way I'd let _him_ keep me from having fun when we weren't even in the same country. I was determined to let myself have fun and relax.

Somehow, Heracles seemed calmer, too. Maybe it was just because he was back in his home country, but he seemed to be happier, more relaxed. His steps seemed lighter. He felt more centered, and more awake than I had ever seen him.

We grabbed our luggage from the baggage claim, then went to the front of the building where his mother had said that she'd be waiting. Heracles looked around for a moment, then a wide grin spread across his face and he began to gently steer me to the doors. To the left of them stood a woman with such an uncanny resemblance to Heracles that she had to be his mother. As we got a bit closer, though, I could see a few differences. Her hair was slightly darker than his, and her eyes were just a little less blindingly green. She had a darker tan, since she was still living in Greece, but other than a few minor things like those she could have been Heracles' sister. She was young, too; probably not more than thirty. I couldn't help but wonder who Heracles' father was, but I didn't dare ask. After all, I knew how bad 'daddy problems' could be.

She smiled when she saw us, and I knew instantly where Heracles got his blindingly beautiful grin. Heracles walked into her open arms and hugged her as hard as she was embracing him, while I stood awkwardly to the side. I didn't want to stare, but I had never had anyone but Yao to really count as family, since my mother had died giving birth to me and my father was, well… not exactly the loving type. It felt like I was intruding on a private moment. Still, it was kind of funny, because Heracles was a few inches taller than his mother, and had to bend down to let her pet his hair.

"You've grown again, damn it. I miss when you were a tiny little baby and I could pick you up with one arm." Her tone was teasing and gentle, and jokes like that were obviously normal, since Heracles laughed. He definitely seemed more at ease with his family, like there was something back in the States that was stressing him out.

"Don't worry, I'll be able do that to you soon enough," He smiled and then turned to me, my breath catching in my throat. His eyes were practically sparkling with joy and excitement, and he looked… _alive._

"Kiku, this is my mother. Mom, this is Kiku, the friend I've been telling you about." I bowed my head respectfully to her.

"It's nice to meet you, Ms. Karpusi. My name is Kiku Honda."

She laughed and I felt her ruffle my hair. I looked up, surprised, and found her grinning widely. "You don't need to be so polite. My name is Akantha, but you can call me whatever you want, since I know it's a bit of a mouthful."

Her voice was heavily accented, full of laughter and kindness, somehow calming me down quite a bit. "Ah, yes. Thank you for having me."

She hugged me gently before turning and grabbing one of Heracles' suitcases. "Let's go, then. I waited to set up the Christmas tree so that you two can help decorate."

Heracles picked up his other suitcase, grabbing mine and easily slinging it over his shoulder. "W-wait, Heracles, I can get that,"

He chuckled softly. "Don't worry about it. It's light, anyway, so you just grab your carry-on bag and let's join Mom before she starts getting on us about being slow."

He started walking, flashing his perfect smile at me as we walked behind his mother. Akantha seemed nice, and he definitely seemed to be more comfortable in that environment. I decided that I was going to enjoy Greece, if only because I got to see the side of Heracles that wasn't all cats and sleep.

It was about a ten minute drive from the Athens airport to where Heracles and Akantha lived, a suburb of Athens called Tavros. Their house was small, but it felt like a home, not like my house did. It was bigger on the inside than it looked from the outside, but it still felt comfortable, cozy. It was the kind of place that you knew instantly was constantly filled with happiness and love. It was the kind of environment I had always craved but never gotten to have.

Since the second floor was being rented, there were only two bedrooms, which meant that I would be sharing one with Heracles. I tried to hide my blush when I heard that, but I couldn't refuse. Besides, it meant that I'd get the chance to wake up in the same room as someone I wasn't terrified of.

We set up the Christmas tree that night before dinner. Sure, it was just a plastic one, some assembly needed, but I enjoyed it. It was the first time I had ever felt like I would enjoy a holiday, and it was cute to see the little art projects that Heracles had made in elementary school that his mother had kept and hung up on the tree every year.

I swore to myself right then and there, as I was laughing at a story that Akantha was telling me that was making Heracles blush in embarrassment, that someday, I'd be able to have that sort of thing for myself.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Heracles' POV

"Heracles, can I talk to you for a minute?" my mother whispered softly in Greek, nodding to the kitchen.

I glanced at Kiku, who was sitting on the couch with his legs folded underneath him as he looked through one of the photo albums my mother had given him. It was embarrassing, since ninety percent of the photos were me as a small child, but it was worth it to see the light in his eyes and hear the occasional soft giggle that came from him. It was rare to see him so relaxed; usually there was a constant tension to him. It was only really noticeable when it wasn't there anymore.

Making sure he wasn't going to be abandoned if I left for a few minutes, I followed my mom into the kitchen. She closed the door behind us, then turned to her with a knowing smirk on her face.

"What?" I spoke in Greek, mimicking her.

She chuckled softly. "You. You're very close to Kiku, aren't you?"

It took me a moment to figure out what she was insinuating, but my face felt like it was burning when I did. I was suddenly very glad we weren't speaking English, so that Kiku wouldn't be able to understand anything he heard. "Wha—? No! No, we're not like that, mom. We're friends, that's it."

As much as I denied it, I couldn't help but admit to myself that there was something about Kiku that made me want to protect him, to be by his side forever. Every time he smiled, I wanted to be the only one who heard that. It was ridiculous, I knew; besides, I already had a boyfriend, as much as I didn't really want one anymore. Still… there was something undeniably perfect about Kiku.

She gave me a knowing look and crossed her arms. "Heracles. Are you saying you don't want to be because that's actually what you want, or because of Sadiq?"

Her tone was slightly poisonous as she said the Turkish man's name; she had never liked Sadiq, not from the moment she met him. Of course, the fact that he had been drunk when she first met him probably hadn't helped any.

I sighed softly and ran my hands through my hair. Did I want to be more than friends with Kiku? Well, I certainly wouldn't complain if he wanted to be. But… I didn't want to be the one to make the first move. There was something in the way that Kiku seemed constantly on edge, the way he flinched at loud noises or sudden touches, and the way he was so reserved that told me that there was something else. Something that was going on in his life that he was afraid of. Something that he wasn't telling me. It could just be the way people at school acted, but… it didn't feel like that. It felt darker, more sinister.

Of course, I was probably just imagining it. Kiku could have just been a naturally nervous person. Or it could just be instincts developed after years and years of people at school being absolute assholes.

"I don't know," I confessed. "I just… he seems so fragile, so innocent. I don't want to hurt him. And Sadiq… well, he wouldn't take it well if I broke up with him."

Mom nodded and sighed softly. "I know. Is that the only reason, though? I've seen for myself how jumpy he is."

I bit my lip and nodded. "Don't let him know that I told you this, but we met because I made a couple kids stop beating on him on the first day of school. It could just be that, but… I don't know. My gut says that there's something off. Something else that's wrong. I just don't know what."

She nodded, chewing thoughtfully on her lower lip. "Yeah… I can see that. And I know how good your gut instincts usually are. All I can say is to be careful for now, okay? If he ever seems extra out of it, or like he's in more pain than usual, try to talk to him about it."

I nodded, smiling as she poked me in the arm. "Let's go back now, before your cutie gets worried."

I blushed slightly as she called Kiku mine, even though I couldn't help but agree with her on describing him as cute, and followed her back out into the living room where Kiku was waiting.


	9. Chapter 9

**Trigger Warning: Rape. I don't know how graphic it is, but still, be careful.**

Chapter 9: Kiku's POV

The first two days of the vacation passed in a happy blur. I felt almost like I was floating. When Heracles was showing me around Athens, showing me the Parthenon and just the city in general, I was almost able to completely forget the way that I was treated back home. It was like the memories faded as the bruises and the pain did. For the first time in what felt like forever, I woke up calm, happy, and I was beginning to be able to move normally as the bruises faded and the pain dulled. It was freeing. I was able to relax, to just enjoy Greece and Heracles and my time away from hell. It felt wonderful.

For once, I was excited for Christmas Eve. Not because I'd be getting something–because Heracles and Akantha had probably both gotten me something, even though I told them not to—but because I was able to spend it without the fear of extra pain and cruelty being the only recognition of the holiday.

On Christmas Eve, I went out to go buy something for Heracles and Akantha with the little pocket change I had. I ended up getting Heracles a small glass kitten figurine, and Akantha a set of little golden cat earrings. Judging by the seven cats that Akantha had in the house, I figured that the love of cats was a family thing.

When I got back to the Karpusi's house that night, I quickly wrapped the gifts before Heracles and Akantha could get back from shopping for Christmas dinner, then hid them in my suitcase so that no one would find them. I could hear them speaking in Greek, and listened for a moment. I had always had a fascination with languages, and how some could sound so similar and so very different at the same time. Greek was melodic, almost reminding me of my own native language. On the other hand, Japanese was more prominent in the pronunciation of vowels, but Greek was almost sharp with the clear enunciation of the consonants. It was amazing, but it confused me how one language could simultaneously sound as sharp as German and soft as Italian.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts, heading to the kitchen before I started to feel like I was stalking them. I started helping Akantha and Heracles unpack the groceries, amazed by how easily I knew where every little thing went. Their house in Greece had become more of a home to me than anywhere else that I had been in less than a week. It was a bit odd, but I wasn't going to complain. I enjoyed the kindness and the warmth that the house—hell, the whole town—radiated. It was refreshing.

That night, Akantha and I made dinner. I made her let me help, despite the amount of protesting that both she and Heracles did. They were making an effort to let me just enjoy myself, but I didn't like feeling like a deadweight, so I made it a point to help out around the house with basic things, like cleaning and cooking. I could tell that neither of them felt like it was a good idea, but they didn't keep me from doing anything.

The night was fairly normal, and I didn't think anything of falling asleep. I had insisted that I slept on an air mattress on the floor, refusing to let Heracles give up his bed for me. I had been in more discomfort while sleeping in my own bed, so the air mattress wasn't horrible. It was quite comfortable, actually. I fell asleep quickly that night, excited for the next day, for once.

 _His smirk was cruel and cold as he stood over me. The sheets beneath my bare body were cold and harsh, refusing to let me escape from my horrible reality. I squeezed my eyes shut; I always felt like a caged animal when he looked at me with that predatory, filthy gaze. His hands slipped over my skin and I had to repress the urge to shudder in at his touch. I gasped softly, unable to hold back the small mew of unwanted pleasure as he began to slide his hands lower over my sensitive skin. I hated how I reacted; he always used it as an excuse when I was begging him to stop the next time. I winced as I felt two rough, dry fingers push forcefully into me; he was never gentle. The first time, he hadn't even bothered to prepare me, and there were permanent reminders of that night in the bloodstains on my sheets._

 _He didn't bother to stretch me for more than twenty seconds. I heard the clink of his belt buckle and closed my eyes tighter, trying to prepare for the pain of what I knew came next. It didn't work; it still felt like my body was on fire as I was stretched out painfully, tears escaping and rolling down my cheeks as the fire burned, and burned, and burned, and oh god I was splitting he was ripping me in half oh god oh god oh god oh god no no no it hurt so much I was on fire no please stop please stop please stop please—_

My eyes flew open. My chest was heaving with my rapid breath, and it felt like my heart was trying to tear a hole through my ribs and escape. There were tears drying on my cheeks, and I knew that I had cut off a scream when I had woken up. I was trembling as the leftover terror from my nightmare raced through my thoughts, chasing themselves around and around and around in circles. I sat up and curled forward, hugging my knees to my chest.

That dream was new. Maybe it was the fact that I was still worried that he'd know about the trip, that he'd end up being more merciless than normal when I got back, but it was terrifying. I knew I wasn't having a panic attack; it wasn't anything like the fear from the plane. That had been crushing, had felt like it was suffocating me, and had caused scenarios that made it worse to run rampant in my head. The fear from the nightmare was different; it still felt like it was suffocating me, but it simply made three thoughts circle through my mind.

 _He knows. He'll hurt me. He'll hurt Heracles. He knows. He'll hurt me. He'll hurt Heracles. He knows. He'll hurt me. He'll hurt Heracles._

It was the last thought that scared me the most. I had gotten used to the pain, the fear, the accusing glares and angry words that led to me being unable to move from the sticky sheets. But Heracles… He had a good life. He had a perfect life. He had been raised with love and kindness and care. He hadn't ever been in my situation.

I wasn't jealous. No. If anything, I was glad. I was glad it was me and not Heracles, because thinking of him in my place made my chest clench. I would rather have ripped my own heart out than let Heracles have my life. He didn't deserve that kind of pain.

 _But neither do you._ A soft voice whispered in the back of my head, sounding terrifyingly like Heracles. I immediately squashed it. No, I didn't, but what could I do? I couldn't run away. My father knew everyone in the town, and I wouldn't have anywhere to live if I did succeed in getting away. I'd end up on the streets, cold and alone and scared. At least if I stayed put and dealt with it, at least until I was old enough to buy my ticket out of that damned town and leave everyone in it behind, I got food and water and shelter and a warm place to sleep. Sometimes it was _too_ warm, but that wasn't something that was really relevant.

I was jerked out of my thoughts by a hand on my shoulder. I jumped and whimpered softly, fear flashing through me. When I turned around, however, I was relieved to see that it was Heracles, looking down at me with worry filling those bright green eyes.

"Kiku? Are you alright?" His voice was soft, barely above a whisper; his mother was in the room next to ours and the walls weren't exactly thick.

I nodded, smiling a bit and resting my hand over his. It was a bit nerve wracking, how a simple touch and a couple words could make all the fear disappear in an instant, but I wasn't going to complain. "Yes, I'm fine. It was just a nightmare. I'm sorry if I woke you."

He shook his head and crouched down next to me, wrapping his arm gently around my shoulders. "I've been awake for a while. You scared me, though. You sounded so afraid."

I bit down on my lower lip, guilt washing over me. I didn't want Heracles to worry about me. "I'm sorry. You should get back to sleep. What time is it, anyway?"

Either Heracles didn't notice how I tried to change the subject, or he ignored it, but he didn't miss a beat answering. "It's not even one in the morning. And you need sleep, too, Kiku."

I sighed softly; I highly doubted that I'd be able to get to sleep after that. _His_ smile still haunted me, floating in my mind with his cold glare like those of the Cheshire Cat.

I squeaked in surprise as strong arms wrapped around me and I was lifted into the air. I blushed softly as I looked up at Heracles, who chuckled softly at my reaction.

"W-what are you doing?" I didn't like being carried like that, but I didn't squirm or struggle for fear of falling.

"Well, when I was little, I used to go sleep in my mom's bed with her whenever I had nightmares. Same principal here. You can sleep with me, and you won't have any more dreams. Well, probably not, but it's worth the try."

I blushed at his wording, glad for the darkness so that Heracles couldn't see it. He didn't seem to care, though, as he set me in the bed and then climbed in behind me, pulling the blankets up over us. I curled up and tried not to touch him, but the bed wasn't all that big and he wasn't all that tiny. That, and he immediately wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to his chest. My cheeks felt like they were burning as he pressed his face into my shoulder and quickly fell asleep, his breathing evening out quietly.

I didn't want to sleep, not with as embarrassing as it was. But somehow, his warmth and the feeling of his chest pressed up against my back and his arms around my waist had my eyelids drooping slowly. I felt warm and safe. For once in my life, I was in the same bed as someone who didn't want anything sexual from me. It was… nice, even though that was too mild a term to describe the fluttering feeling in my chest and the contentment that seemed to fill every vein in my body. Carefully, so as not to wake him up, I rolled over in his arms, resting my head against his chest and letting my eyes slide shut as I just basked in everything that was Heracles.

The last thing I registered before sleep took me back was that he smelled like the ocean. It was calming, like some sort of odd, harmless drug that didn't give me hallucinations. I didn't need the high; everything about the Greek man holding me in his arms was a high to me. Somehow, I knew that I wouldn't have another nightmare that night.

Or, really, any other night that I could remember that smell and that warmth.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Kiku's POV

When I woke up, I was confused for a moment about why I was so _warm._ The events of the night before came rushing back to me, and my eyes snapped open, a blush instantly setting my cheeks on fire. I wasn't pressed up against Heracles quite as much as I had been when I fell asleep, and his arms had loosened around me, but I was still close enough to see his eyelashes flutter ever so slightly in his sleep. He looked so calm, so peaceful, so serene, that I just didn't have the heart to wake him up. Instead, I closed my eyes again and snuggled closer, pressing myself to the comforting warmth of his chest. I laid there for a few moments, just enjoying his presence and basking in his existence. It was nice, just lying there with nothing to worry about and no reason to even want to move. It was the kind of drowsy contentedness that I didn't get often, between school and _him._ I loved it.

I froze at that thought. Love… was that what that was? That burning desire that I never had around anyone else to reach out and share even the smallest of touches with Heracles? The electric shivers that ran down my spine every time he laughed or brushed up against me or even so much as glanced my way? The emptiness, the all-encompassing hollowness that consumed me every time he wasn't around? The way that the sound of his voice or the touch of his hand or even simply his presence calmed me down? The way he made me feel so safe that I could bring myself to relax and enjoy my time with him?

No. That couldn't be that. It couldn't. Because that would mean that I had the chance of accidentally destroying the fragile friendship we had with one misspoken word, one instinctive action, one unintentional touch. Because that was all that we were: friends. I didn't even know if he felt the same, or if there was even the chance that he'd feel the same.

I sighed softly. I had to sort out my feelings, figure out what I wanted, before I said or did anything. I had to find out how he felt about me. I had to know for sure before I accidentally did something I'd regret later. I couldn't risk it.

I couldn't love Heracles.

A few hours later, Heracles and I were forced out of bed by Akantha, who bounced into our rooms rambling about how we should've been up hours ago since it was Christmas. When she saw the position we were in—I was almost certain my face was on fire; I was still cuddled next to Heracles—she shot her son a knowing look that I wasn't sure I liked and told us to hurry up and get ready. It was embarrassing, sure, but somehow I didn't mind it as much as if it had been someone else to walk into the room at that moment. I wasn't sure that Heracles had been awake enough to understand the situation at the moment, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing, either.

We rushed downstairs and for once, I felt like I was able to be the enthusiastic child on Christmas I had never had the chance to be. It was exhilarating. We all exchanged gifts, even though there weren't many. Apparently, Heracles and Akantha's extended family didn't keep in touch, so they were used to having small celebrations. It was kind of sad, to think of a younger Heracles bouncing downstairs early on Christmas morning to only find one—or, if his dad decided to take an interest in his family for once, two—presents under the tree, but I had the feeling he had never minded it much. He didn't seem like the kind of person who would've been anything but overjoyed about whatever he got, no matter what the circumstances were.

For me, on the other hand, it was new to even have the holiday be remembered. _He_ had always hated the idea of spending money frivolously on children he, in his own words, hadn't even wanted. He had been fine, until my mother had died, but after that… he had kind of fallen apart. That was when things like Christmas and birthday parties had become part of the past for Yao. He had always said I was lucky not to have been old enough to remember any of it.

I had always wondered, though, what it would feel like to be surrounded by happy, loving family on days like that. It was sad, honestly, that Yao hadn't gotten more of them. But what had happened had happened, and I refused to think about the past that day.

Heracles, Akantha, and I spent the day just lounging around the house, none of us even bothering to change out of our pajamas. It was interesting to see the difference between heaven and hell right before my eyes, and I loved every second of it.

Nothing really happened until that night. Heracles had insisted that I slept in the same bed as him, to ward off the nightmares of _him_ that would probably have ended up haunting me and making me wake up screaming like I had the night before. I was still terrified that he'd find out about my trip to Greece, and that he'd hurt Heracles for it. I couldn't stand it if Heracles ever got hurt for me. That would be worse than anything my father could ever do to me. Even though I could feel my face burning in embarrassment, I gave in and fell asleep in Heracles' arms for the second time.

"Kiku. Hey, Kiku, wake up."

Heracles' voice pierced through the dreamless black of my sleep, slowly pulling me back to consciousness. I blinked slightly, amazed that I had been able to sleep as deeply as I had been. I was usually a light sleeper, on guard against any sign of _him._

"Kiku, come on. I want to show you something."

I looked up at Heracles and realized that it was still so dark that I could barely see his outline. I glanced at the red numbers on the digital clock next to the bed and groaned. It read 1:56 AM.

"What? Heracles, it's almost two in the morning."

I heard him chuckle and a gentle hand ruffled my hair. "I know. That's the point. Come on, I promise it's worth it."

I sighed softly, knowing that I wouldn't be able to say no. I sat up, rubbing the last remnants of sleep from my eyes. "Alright. Where are we going?"

I could just barely see his grin in dim moonlight streaming in from his bedroom window. "The roof. It's easiest to see from there."

His whispered words surprised me. What on earth were we going to the roof at two in the morning for?

I followed him to the window and bit my lip as he swung himself out and to the side. I saw him look sideways through the window and smile.

"You coming?" he held his hand out and I gingerly took it, wobbling a bit as he gently led me onto the ledge of the window.

I looked over and saw a set of metal rungs set into the back of the house, leading up to what I assumed was the roof. He moved down a bit, then helped me get my feet onto the ladder. I froze, gripping the rung in front of me tightly as I felt bits of rust flake off in my hands. I had never been good with heights, and rusty ladders attached to the sides of houses didn't help any.

I felt a gentle hand on my leg and heard Heracles' whispered words float through the beginnings of my panic. "Kiku, it's alright. It's perfectly safe, I promise. Just start climbing. It's not that far." His soft reassurances gave me the courage enough to climb and eventually find myself helping him onto the roof.

He smiled at me as he sat down on the tiles of the roof. He didn't say anything, but I knew that he wasn't judging me for my probably absurd fear of heights. We sat in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the quiet of the night, before I broke it.

"So… Why are we out here?"

He laughed softly. "Just wait. It should start in a couple minutes."

I shivered slightly as a cold breeze ruffled the trees and ran across my skin. I hadn't thought to grab a sweatshirt or a jacket, so it raised goosebumps on my skin. Without saying a word, Heracles wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer so that I was pressed against him. I was suddenly very warm.

Before I had a chance to comment on his actions, however, he pointed to the sky. "Watch,"

I looked up, a bit confused. As I was about to ask Heracles exactly _what_ I was watching, a faint but high-pitched whistle sounded from over the water.

Suddenly, a boom echoed through the night air and the world was lit up in a dazzling array of shimmering colors. Gold, amethyst, emerald, azure, crimson, and rose lit up the sky, momentarily blotting out the silver of the stars as the fireworks began to explode in series of gorgeous and stunning patterns that took my breath away. I couldn't help a gasp of awe as I stared at the fireworks display that by far beat what I had used to see as a small child on the fourth of July. I looked over at Heracles, amazed, and could see his grin clearly in the new light.

"I told you it was worth it, didn't I?" the colors were reflected in his eyes, turning them different shades of green, each more stunning than the last.

I couldn't restrain the laugh of pure joy that bubbled up from my chest. I was amazed; I couldn't remember the last time I had laughed like that. "It's beautiful,"

I could've sworn he whispered something along the lines of _"So are you,"_ but it was probably something I had hallucinated in the pops of the next set of fireworks being set off.

I turned my attention back to the aweing display in the sky and felt Heracles' hand brush lightly over mine, coming to rest in such a way that our fingertips barely brushed. Even so, that small touch sent tingles of joy up my spine.

It was then that I realized two things. One: I was in love with Heracles.

Two: I would have to hide my feelings for him to keep him safe.

We spent the next several hours sitting like that, one of his arms slung around my shoulders and the other just brushing our hands together.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Heracles' POV

Kiku and I left three days after Christmas. I wasn't happy to be leaving, partially because I missed spending time with Mom and partially because I was sure I'd miss seeing Kiku so relaxed and happy. Back in the States, it seemed like there was some sort of dark, oppressing cloud hovering over him that he had been able to outrun during our trip to Greece. It was nice to see him actually letting himself have fun, instead of the usual tenseness that hovered around him. I couldn't get the expression of absolute awe and pure joy on his face while he was watching the fireworks show out of my head. It was a beautiful expression that fit him much better than the careful neutrality with an undercurrent of terror that he usually displayed.

I was still concerned about the late-night phone calls and the way he seemed to be constantly on edge, but I wasn't going to pry. After all, I wasn't exactly being completely honest to anyone; not with my situation with Sadiq. I quickly forced those thoughts away. I didn't like thinking about that. It made my ribs throb in memory of a long-gone injury.

I was afraid for Kiku. I had a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach that something else, something darker, something worse was going on in Kiku's life. I didn't wat it to be true, but I couldn't remember the last time my gut instincts had been wrong.

The feeling intensified when he woke me up during that nightmare on Christmas Eve. It had killed me to see him so broken, so afraid, and I wasn't able to resist my urge to wrap him in my arms and keep him safe that night. I had been worried that it would have weirded him out, made him more scared, but luckily he seemed more flustered and embarrassed than anything. It was adorable, how easily I could make a blush spread so delicately over his almost too-pale skin.

I knew I shouldn't have been having thoughts like that. I was dating Sadiq, and Kiku was probably straight as an arrow. Still, it didn't change the fact that he was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. He woke me up, too. With him, I was alive, energetic, awake. I felt like I was able to live, to see clearly for the first time in my life, whenever he was around. He made all the colors and noises and smells sharper, like I was becoming sober after years and years and years of living underneath an alcoholic daze, like I was finally fully aware of everything around me. It was amazing. It was beautiful.

I wondered how he would react if I told him that? Surely, he would deny it at first; say that I was wrong, that he was anything but beautiful. He didn't have a very high opinion of himself, which made me want to find whichever jackass that had given him that impression of himself and make sure they could never bring someone down like that again. But what about after that? Would he be disgusted? Afraid? Or would he be happy? Would he say that he felt the same?

But what did I feel? Kiku seemed to make everything more confusing and clearer at the same time. The effect he had on me was baffling, but I felt like if I spent just a few more minutes, hours, days with him, I'd be able to make sense of it. I had never felt anything like that. Then again, I had never met anyone who came anywhere near Kiku. No one had had anything close to the effect that the small Japanese boy had on me. The closest thing I could relate it to was when I had first me Sadiq.

But I had thought I was in love with Sadiq. Was that what it was? Was I in love with Kiku? No, that didn't seem quite right. Somehow, what I felt for him seemed deeper than love. Deeper, more sacred, more precious. It was…

I didn't know what. But somehow, whenever I thought about it—mostly after Kiku had fallen asleep and was resting in my arms like some sort of angel—I kept landing on that one term. Love.

Maybe that was what it was. I didn't know. But I decided that that was what I'd call it for the moment. I didn't know what kind, or how deep it was, but I decided that I was at least a little bit in love with Kiku Honda.

The day that Kiku and I were to leave Greece and go back to the U.S., I had pulled my mom aside and told her about Kiku's apparent fear of planes. She had just smiled knowingly and told me to be there for him. I decided that that was exactly what I'd do.

Mom got teary-eyed as she said goodbye to us at the airport, hugging both Kiku and I so hard that I, at least, thought my ribs were going to crack. From the way he winced and rubbed his side afterward, I figured that she had done the same thing to him.

Kiku definitely seemed calmer on the plane ride that time around, but I couldn't tell if it was because I kept my arm wrapped around his shoulders the entire time or because he was sitting there sketching. I never got a chance to see what he was drawing; every time I'd try to take a look he'd blush bright red and cover it with his arms so I could never actually see it. I had seen the little sketches he did in the margins of his notes in class, though, so I was sure it was amazing.

We went our separate ways at the airport; since the town was so small we could easily walk to our respective houses. I wandered around town for a little bit, having no desire to go back home, to go back to Sadiq. But eventually, the sun began to go down and I had to, not wanting to sleep outside.

I was met with an icy silence as I walked through the door of my apartment. Technically, Sadiq lived there, but he wasn't paying any of the damn rent and he did have a house to go to if I kicked him out.

Which was extremely tempting most of the time. I would have done it a long time ago, but he wouldn't have taken it well and I knew it.

I was able to head to my bedroom—which I reluctantly shared with Sadiq, just like everything else—and put the things I had packed away before Sadiq decided to confront me. The Turkish man was bigger and stronger than me, and won any and all physical altercations, and he knew it. Which was part of the reason I was afraid to kick him out.

"So," he said, his tone deceptively neutral as he leaned against the doorframe, "you went to Greece,"

I nodded, not wanting to dignify his implied question with a response, and didn't even bother to turn around to face him as I continued putting things away. I knew that he'd be pissed for my silent rebellion against him later, but I didn't care at the moment. I just wanted to be back in Greece with Mom and Kiku.

I tried desperately to cling to the warmth in my chest that the thought of the quiet Japanese boy brought.

I failed, though, when Sadiq's hand slammed into the wall inches from my head. I could feel his disgustingly hot breath on my neck, and his body was pressed up against my back. My skin crawled at the contact, and not in a good way.

"And you didn't think to tell me? To _invite_ me?" He growled venomously in my ear.

"No, I didn't. You can't be with me all the damned time, Sadiq. Get over yourself." I injected my voice with poison to match his.

"I would, but you invited some little Japanese whore instead. What the fuck was that for, Heracles?"

I couldn't restrain the growl that bubbled from the back of my throat. I could stand the insults about me, hell, I could withstand the ones about my _mother,_ as much as I wanted to punch him in the face for those ones. But I would not— _could not_ —let him talk that way about Kiku.

"Do not _ever_ speak about Kiku that way again, or so help me I'll—"

"You'll what?" he sneered. "Besides, the little bitch deserves it. Rumor on the street is that he even lets his dad fuck him, the little slut. How many times did he let you into his pants, huh?"

The blood in my veins froze at the notion that Kiku would ever let his father do anything so vile, so revolting, so absolutely _disgusting._ Without warning, I shoved my elbow backward, and was rewarded with a heavy grunt as it dug into his stomach. He stumbled back, caught by surprise. I turned around, fully prepared to start yet another row with him, and got his open palm to my cheek. I brought my knee up, hitting home right between his legs. His squeak of pain was too high-pitched to be natural as he sunk to his knees.

I was tired, but not physically. I was tired of his constant jibes, the constant arguments, the constant yelling, the constant fights that were physical more often than they weren't.

"Get out," I growled, and he looked up at me in shock.

"But—"

"Get out, Sadiq. We're done. I'm over it. You're an abusive, greedy asshole, and I refuse to be the one you take your shit out on. So get the fuck out before I call the goddamned police."

He tried to speak up, but I cut him off with a sharp glare. I pointed to the door and he stared at me. We kept eye contact for a few more seconds before Sadiq stood, glaring right back at me. He spat in my face and left.

I wiped the saliva off my face as soon as I heard the front door slam shut behind my _ex-_ boyfriend. I was sure he was convinced that I'd come crawling back to him, with tears in my eyes and probably offers of hours of apology sex. Like _hell_ would I ever let that happen. I didn't give a second thought to the supposed rumors about Kiku that Sadiq had brought up. That was all they were; rumors that were probably on-the-spot accusations made up by Sadiq himself.

Slowly, I lowered my arm and stared at my hands. They were shaking… Or was that me? My vision blurred and slowly, the tears that I had held back for almost a two years began to drip down my cheeks and into my open palms.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Heracles' POV

Going back to school was hell. Apparently, Sadiq had told all of his friends—which was about half the school—about how I had kicked him out and, of course, made himself seem like the damned victim. I could've cared less, but Kiku was worried. He had practically panicked when he had seen the bruise on my cheek, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushed as he stammered attempt after attempt to ask me what had happened. It was honestly the most adorable thing I had ever seen.

I had laughed it off; the bruise hadn't hurt for even a second after he had left, but I didn't complain as Kiku bustled around his tiny kitchen and made an ice pack out of ice cubes from the freezer and a towel. The gesture was sweet.

It was strange. I could tell the day his father came home; every muscle in his body was as tense as they were before we went to Greece. That feeling that something was horribly wrong increased when he became jumpier, quieter, and just in general more like he was expecting an attack at all times. If I thought too deep, Sadiq's words would float through my head. _Rumor on the street is that he even lets his dad fuck him._

No, I refused to even so much as think about believing it. I would _not_ let the words of some probably-drunk, abusive asshole make me doubt Kiku. He would tell me if there was something like that going on, right? Because I knew in my gut that Kiku would never agree to do something like that of his own free will.

But… As much as I hated it, it would explain a lot. It would explain why so much of a touch or a raised voice would make him flinch and curl away like he was expecting a attack. It explained why he was always so quiet, so scared. Why he never said much about himself.

I realized I actually didn't know too much about Kiku. I knew that he was fifteen, that he was from Japan, and that he lived with his father. That was it. I didn't know where his mother was, why she was never around. Come to think of it, I had never even _seen_ his father, and I had only been to his house once. I knew that he had never really had many friends—except for that scary German kid and the oddball Italian one that never really payed any attention to him—so he might not have been used to having people to actually invite over. Still… one would think that if he was so lonely, he'd jump at the chance to spend as much time with his friends as possible.

Unless there was something at that house that he didn't want anyone to know…

 _No! Why am I even thinking about that? He's not being… raped. He can't be. He's_ not.

I didn't want to even think that word. Because that implied that Kiku was living through a deeper hell than anyone I had ever known would be able to. It would mean that he was in more pain than I would know what to do with.

But it would also prove just how strong he was. I would've broken in a situation like that.

 _But he's not in that situation to begin with. Stop thinking about it, Heracles._

But I couldn't stop. The more I thought about it, the more plausible it seemed. That stupid sentence that Sadiq had spewed in the midst of being pissed off connected all the dots, solved all the mysteries. It was the key that unlocked the door to every little goddamned thing that I was wondering about Kiku.

Eventually, I decided that I _had_ to find out. I had to ask Kiku what the hell was going on, or I'd drive myself insane. It was horrible. I was letting Sadiq get to me, and I was letting it worm into my mind. Still.

When it got to be too much, I headed after school to Kiku's house. He had left early, and to anyone else he would've seemed perfectly fine. But I saw how his skin went pale, how his hands were shaking.

I didn't know if my paranoid mind was making that up or not, though.

Fear made my gut clench as I realized that the front door of his house wasn't locked. It was like a horror movie; it was almost like whomever was home _wanted_ me to walk in.

I did just that. I slipped off my shoes and stood awkwardly in the kitchen where Kiku had treated my bruise just a few days earlier. I sort of assumed that Kiku was upstairs, since I didn't hear anything from the first floor. When I made it to the top of the stairs, however, I did hear something: a soft whimper from the end of the hall. It was so faint that I could've imagined it, but I was sure I hadn't. My body was tense and all of my senses were hyperaware. It suddenly made sense why books compared tension to coiled springs.

I crept down the hall, waiting for any more noise to alert me of where I was actually going. Another soft whimper came from the right, behind a deceptively normal door. I reached out a hand to open the door, then froze right as my fingertips brushed the knob.

"P-please… please… don't… Please stop…" The whimpered pleas were definitely in Kiku's voice.

"Shut up, little bitch. You know you want this, so shut up and take it." Growled a voice that I didn't recognize.

My eyes widened, but I stayed frozen in horror as Kiku whimpered shakily again. The sound of a belt buckle being undone jerked me out of my terrified stupor and I flung the door open. Everyone froze, shock mirrored in three pairs of eyes.

 _Well… Shit._


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Heracles' POV

The only thing that I could recognize in the swirling death storm of emotion going through my head at the moment was rage. Absolute rage. I was angrier than I had ever been in my life at the bastard who had his hands up Kiku's shirt. My visions started to go red around the edges when I saw Kiku's face. There were fresh tear tracks on his cheek, his eyes were wide, and he was so pale he could've easily passed for the undead.

I launched myself at Kiku's dad, shoving him violently off of Kiku and onto the floor. He landed heavily, but I couldn't bring myself to care. He was hurting Kiku. He was a large part of the reason Kiku was afraid of so much.

I hated him more than I had ever hated anything. I hated him more than I could ever hate Sadiq. He had caused so much pain so someone so innocent, so gentle, so precious. I could never let that slide.

Kiku looked at me and opened his mouth, probably to tell me something to the effect of _it's not what it looks like._ I cut him off before he could.

"Kiku, get up. We're leaving."

I ignored his frantic protests and grabbed his wrist, pulling him off the bed and out of the room. He cast a fearful glance first back at his room, then up at me, stumbling to keep up with my long strides. I practically dragged him out of the house, not caring that it had started to rain fairly heavily during the time that I had been in there. Kiku was saying something, but I couldn't hear it over the sound of my own heart pounding.

"Heracles, stop! Please! It hurts. Heracles, please." His eyes were wide and his pupils were dilated to the point where his eyes were black with only a thin ring of their usual brown around the edges. His voice carried the same tone that it had when he had been begging his father to stop.

I instantly let go of his wrist and stood back, watching him. Kiku pulled his arm to his chest and clutched at his wrist, which I realized guiltily had red imprints of my fingers. I hoped they wouldn't bruise. I didn't want to hurt him more than he already had been.

We stood there for a moment, neither of us caring that the rain was dripping down our faces and sticking our hair and clothing to our skin. Kiku was wide-eyed and staring at me, obviously holding back tears. I hated that I had cause that undertone of fear that was beneath his shock.

Desperate for answers, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He went paler than he was already and ducked his head, his silky bangs falling to obscure his eyes. I could, however, see that he was wiping away tears that he couldn't manage to hold back.

I bit my lip guiltily, knowing that I was at least in some part responsible for his tears. Slowly, I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him. I was soaked, but so was he, so it didn't really matter. He tensed for a moment, then leaned into me and buried his face in my chest. He shook with the force of his sobs being torn from his throat and he had a death grip on my shirt. I didn't bother with useless words that probably wouldn't mean anything to him, words that he had probably forced himself to believe in just to get him through each day. He had heard them enough. I just stood there and held him, letting him cry as long as he needed to. I could tell that he was the kind of person who didn't let himself cry as much as he should, and that he needed this desperately, so I just let him cry. I let him let all the pain and all the hell he had suffered out in the form of those salty little diamonds that rolled down his cheeks.

We stood like that in the rain for what was probably just minutes but felt like hours. Eventually he cried until he ran out of tears, but I held him until he gently pushed on my chest to let me know he wanted out of the embrace. I let him go and he looked down at the ground in shame. Gently, I tilted his chin up so that he was looking me in the eyes.

"Kiku, it's nothing to be ashamed of. Just because your dad is a depraved pig does not mean that you are anything less than perfect."

He slowly shook his head, looking away from me. "I'm tainted, Heracles. I'm tainted and broken and weak and I don't even want to think about my mental health. I'm not worth your time or your effort or your pity. I let him do those things to me, because he's my family and I don't want to lose what little of that I have left."

His voice was no louder than a whisper, but I heard him as clearly as if he had shouted the words. Gently this time, I took his hand and pulled him in the direction of the police station. "Kiku, you have me. You have my mom. You have a real family just waiting for you. But for the moment we need to get you away from him. We need to go report him."

I turned to start to the station, but Kiku pulled his hand from mine. I turned around to see him shaking his head defeatedly.

"I can't, Heracles. I can't. He'd find a way to come back. He'd find a way to hurt me again. He'd… He'd hurt _you."_ He seemed more afraid at the thought of his father doing anything to me than he was at the thought of himself getting hurt.

"Kiku…" I couldn't find words to let him know how I felt. Hell, _I_ didn't know how I felt. It felt like someone was sawing a butter knife back and forth in my heart, it hurt so much to see him like that. He seemed so small all of a sudden.

He shook his head again. "I can't let him hurt you. Heracles, you have to stop. Stop caring about me. It'll only end up in pain for you. Or worse." The last two words were barely audible.

"Kiku… what? What do you mean? I can deal with a little bit of pain. No big deal. And there's no way I could ever, _ever_ stop caring about you. You're incredibly important to me. How could you think I could just stop caring?"

He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head violently. "No! No, stop it. Stop thinking like that. Stop. Stop making me care. Stop being so perfect. Stay away! I don't want you to end up dead. I can't… I can't lose you. Not you, too. "

Suddenly he was yelling, screaming brokenly into the fading daylight and the pouring rain. I was confused. Dead? Why on Earth would he think I'd end up dead? And what did he mean, _not you too_?

My confusion must've shown on my face, because he grabbed my hand and started tugging at it gently. I followed him to a part of town I had never bothered to explore, mostly because it was so far away from my apartment that Sadiq would have a hissy fit that I went that far away, even if it took less than ten minutes to get back.

Kiku, though, obviously knew the way to wherever he was going well. He moved almost instinctively, keeping his head down and his eyes away from me.

I almost froze up again when I saw that we were headed to a cemetery. I had always hated the overwhelming feeling of _death_ that surrounded them. But Kiku led me through the gates and to the very back corner, furthest away from the entrance. A grave stood there, not surprisingly, and he dropped my hand as he stood in front of it. His eyes looked dark with the amount of sorrow and pain that welled up behind them as he stared at the piece of rock.

I hesitantly crouched down in front of the grave to read the words on the headstone.

 _Yao Wang_

 _October 1, 1990—December 25, 2007_

 _Zuídàdí gēgē hé péngyŏu zuì shànliáng_

I suddenly felt like there was still something to Kiku's story, one more piece to the puzzle that was Kiku's life. I felt like it was standing right in front of me, but I couldn't quite grab it to finally solve the mystery of Kiku Honda.

I looked over at him; he had sat down next to me. He still wouldn't look me in the eye. I eased myself down onto the wet grass and waited patiently for him to say something. And, eventually, he took a shaky breath and did.

"This… This is my brother. Adopted brother, actually. I was adopted as a baby, and Yao was their biological son. We were… really close. He was nine when I was adopted. His mom… I never got to know her for more than a couple hours. He… on the way back after getting me, Dad," his voice cracked painfully on that word, "ran a red light. A car d-didn't see us, and hit the passenger side. Totaled the car. Mom… she died instantly. Father broke a leg. Yao broke his right arm because he had thrown himself over me to protect me when he saw that we were about to crash. When I got older, Yao told me that because… well, Father blamed me for her death."

His words were whispered at that point, and I had to lean in a bit to hear them, but I didn't interrupt. I could tell that if I stopped him, he wouldn't have the courage to keep going afterward. I knew that telling me those things was killing him slowly, that he was reliving every painful moment he could remember.

"It was after her death that _he_ got… you know. Yao… the first time, Father told me that he had wanted to take it out on me from the start. But Yao took it for me. Yao… Yao protected me from our father and from the people at school. But it… eventually, the pain was too much. He couldn't bear it all alone with a smile on his face like he always did. He just couldn't. Instead… he ended up breaking. Instead of just letting Father have his way with me, he stood until he broke." Kiku wrapped his arms around himself and clenched his eyes shut to stop the tears that I saw forming in his eyes from falling.

"When I was younger, I was a lot closer to Ludwig and Feli. On Christmas, since we never really did anything for the holidays, I went out and spent a little time at Feli's house. Now that I think about it… I really shouldn't have. I should've stayed with Yao. God… looking back, there are so many things I should have— _could_ have done that I didn't do." He sounded like he had thought things like that time and time again. He sounded broken, hopeless.

"A-anyway, when I came home… When I came home, Father was out. I thought…" he choked on a sob, and I couldn't help but pull him close. "I thought that I'd go spend time with Yao. I… I f-found him in the bathtub, his wrists cut and the razor on the floor next to him. And I panicked. There was just so much blood, so much, and it was everywhere. I was only eight; I had no idea what to do.

"Yao… he didn't realize I was th-there until I screamed. It… he looked so scared. God, he looked so scared, and I was scared, and there were scars all over his arms. He didn't want to die, Heracles. I know he didn't. He just…" He pressed a hand over his mouth, trying not to let me know that he was crying again. "He couldn't take it. He couldn't keep up with the pain anymore. The last thing he said to me was that he was sorry."

I sat there in silence for a moment, waiting to see if he was done. Kiku shook violently, but whether it was because of the emotional wound he had just reopened or because of the cold rain that was still pouring down, I couldn't tell. I just tightened my hold on him and let him have what he needed most at the moment: comfort.

A couple minutes later, he spoke again. His voice was steadier then, but just as soft. "You know, I thought about following him a few times. Of taking the easy way out like he did. I had kept the razor, as a reminder for the mistakes I had made, but I… I could never work up the courage. I was too afraid to use it. I'm still too afraid to use it."

I gently kissed the top of his head, fear almost overwhelming me. I guess it was good that he hadn't inflicted any pain on himself, but hearing that the person you're in love with was suicidal… it's not a pleasant feeling. It's like all the air in your lungs is getting wrung out by a razor-edged vice. I almost wanted to cry, myself.

I gently lifted his head again, not caring that his eyes were red and puffy and that there were still tears rolling down his face. For once, I knew exactly what I needed to say, what I needed to do.

"Kiku, you're stronger than you give yourself credit for. Look at you. Still alive, still hoping things will get better. Just because you can't use that razor like Yao did does _not_ mean you are weak. If anything, it means that you're even stronger. You said it yourself. Yao broke. That's why he had those scars. That's why he did what he did. You don't have those scars. You haven't followed him because you're not broken. You've still got a reason to live."

"I didn't," he looked down, a soft blush on his face. "I was close to breaking. I was… so, so close. I was starting to want to follow him… I was _going_ to follow him. But you know why I didn't?"

I shook my head silently, my heart suddenly pounding. He looked back up at me, and he was smiling. Smiling through the tears, through the pain. Smiling at me. Smiling _for_ me.

"It was because of you, Heracles. You… I don't think you know how much you mean to me, Heracles. That's why… That's why you can't keep caring. That's why you have to stay away. I care so, so much… and if you ended up like Mom, or Yao, I _would_ break. I wouldn't have anything to love. Anything to live for. So, please… promise me that you'll forget about me. Promise me that you'll stay far, far away. Promise me, so I know you're safe."

He sounded so desperate. He was pleading me to stay away from him so that he wouldn't hurt me. So that his hell wouldn't become mine.

And I loved him all the more for it. At that moment, I knew without a doubt that I loved him. I loved him more than I had loved anything. I wanted to cherish him, to coddle him, to give him the love and warmth and happiness that his own family never had.

I couldn't help but smile. "Kiku, there's one thing I don't think you quite understand. I don't think you realize just how precious you are to me." I brought my hand up to gently cup his cheek and his blush deepened. "I love you, Kiku. I know this is probably not the best time, but for once… I don't care. I just want you to be happy."

I gently leaned forward, pausing just before my mouth brushed his. "Is this alright?"

In response, he closed the space between us and suddenly we were kissing. He melted in my arms, and he tasted like tears and rain and everything Kiku, and it was perfect.

It was chaste, but it had Kiku blushing like a tomato by the time I pulled away. He pressed his face into my shoulder in embarrassment, but I could still hear his words. "I love you, too, Heracles. Thank you… Thank you… Thank you…"

I smiled softly and nodded. "I need you to promise me something, okay?"

He pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes, the smile fading from his face with the blush. "What? Heracles, I can't leave. It'll only make it worse for me."

I gently shook my head and placed a finger to his lips. "Kiku, that's not what I'm asking. I want you to promise to keep calling me when he hurts you like that. I want to know every single time. I won't let you bear it alone anymore. Okay?"

He hesitated, then nodded. "Alright. Only if you promise me, something, too."

I nodded. I'd do anything for Kiku, no matter what it was. "Promise me that you'll be safe. That I won't have to watch you go six feet under, too."

I smiled gently. "I promise, Kiku. I'll be with you forever."

As I twined our fingers together, I fully intended to keep that promise. No matter what it took, I would not let him down.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14: Kiku's POV

I closed the door of the house behind me, my eyes darting around fearfully for my father. Heracles had sat there in the rain for about half an hour afterward, talking about what to do next. He had given me his jacket at one point, leaving himself in only a t-shirt, but he hadn't let me resist. I didn't mind it, anyway. It was too big on me and it was warm and it smelled like him. I was still wearing it, but it was really the only reason I had enough courage to bear to go back to the house. It reminded me that Heracles wasn't going to leave me. He wasn't like Yao or Mom. That Heracles wouldn't break.

The thought of Heracles made me smile, despite the situation. I was still afraid that I would have to watch him die, that I would have to watch him get lowered into the ground in a wooden box and then buried under six feet of dirt, but he had promised me that he wouldn't leave, and I had no reason not to believe him.

I took a hesitant step forward, clutching the edges of the jacket tightly around me. Just because I hadn't seen any sign of _him_ didn't mean _he_ wasn't lurking in the corner somewhere, waiting for me to pass by so that _he_ could yell at me and push me further into hell. It had happened before.

I managed to make it to my room without any sign of my father. I closed the door behind me and quickly pulled off Heracles' jacket and put it in my closet where _he_ wouldn't find it before looking around. Luckily, it appeared that _he_ had left, or passed out in some of the house, because _he_ wasn't in my room. I know I'd get hell for Heracles' interruption when he did get back, but for that moment, I was safe.

I exhaled slowly, letting my guard down and finally allowing myself to bask in the warm glow that Heracles' words and actions and his very presence had left in my chest. It was an amazing feeling that even after he knew everything—after he found out about Yao and my father and my mother and everything else—he was still by my side. He still loved me.

Blood rose to my cheeks at that thought. He loved me. Heracles loved me. _Heracles_ loved me. Heracles _loved_ me. Heracles loved _me. Me,_ of all people. Heracles loved me. He had kissed me. He had held me. He had told me that everything was alright. He had told me that I had a real family waiting for me. He had stayed even after he found out about the death and pain I brought to everything I loved. He still wanted me after he found out about my life. He wasn't going to leave.

And _God_ did I love him. I loved Heracles for everything that he was, everything that he did. The smile that seemed to light up everything and make everything else seem insignificant. His touch that made it seem like there was nothing wrong with the world. The smooth tone of his voice that washed away every worry and fear that had lodged itself in my mind. The warmth of him when he held me that made me want to fall asleep against him and never let that moment end. His constant gentleness, like he was afraid a touch or a glance would break me. The way he was never mad at me, or blamed me for anything that I knew was my fault. The way he made me believe that none of it was my fault. His constant reassurances that everything would be alright, that I would be okay, that I was safe with him. The gentle, loving aura that had surrounded him since day one and allowed me to lower my guard even when I barely knew him. The way he had never judged me for anything, not even when I found it hard to speak to him for fear that he would eventually abandon me like everyone else. The perpetual patience and kindness that made me feel safe for once in my life. I even loved that protective anger that had flashed in his eyes when he had shoved my father off of me. I loved the fact that he hadn't been angry at me for even a moment, even going so far as to call my father a _depraved pig_ and say that it wasn't anything to be ashamed about. I loved everything about him, and even the thought of him made me feel safe and comfortable.

I raised my hands to brush across my lips; I could still feel the phantom of his mouth against mine. It had been my first kiss, or at least, what I considered to be my first. It was nothing like when my father forced his tongue down my throat. It had been intimate, but not in a bad way. Not like anything my father had ever forced me into. It had been sweet and gentle and kind and there had been nothing forceful or dominant about it. It had made me feel like I was melting into him because he had been so tender and soft. It had made my head spin and I had loved every second of it. I hadn't ever wanted it to end.

But even when it had ended, I had still felt giddy and dizzy with pure joy, the kind I hadn't experienced since I was tiny. Heracles had that sort of effect on me; to make me feel like a small child again in the best way possible. I loved it. I loved everything. For once, I felt like I could begin to love living again.

Because I loved Heracles Karpusi, and I knew without a doubt that he loved me. For once, I felt like I truly belonged.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15: Kiku's POV

The next week was hell. My father had not, unfortunately, gotten drunk enough to forget Heracles' interruption. As such, he had "punished" me to the point that I had had to skip a day of school because it was almost impossible to move, much less walk. Heracles freaked out; calling me over and over again to make sure I was still okay. It was sweet, and I couldn't help but smile every time my phone rang.

It got better eventually, and I only missed the one day of school, but it had still scared Heracles to the point that he hadn't let me out of his sight at school for the next few days, just to make absolutely sure that I was completely fine. It was new to feel so loved, and I was incredibly happy. Nothing could bring me down from the cloud nine I was on.

…Or so I thought.

One night, about a week and a half after Heracles had become my boyfriend—there was a warm glow in my chest every time I used that word—I was doing my homework when my phone rang. I smiled, thinking it was Heracles, and instantly went to answer it. I paused, however, when I didn't recognize the number. I answered the call warily; the sudden feeling that something was horribly _wrong_ tugging at my gut.

"Hello?" I said hesitantly.

"Yes, this is Axis Hospital. Is this Kiku Honda?"

My breath caught in my throat as I heard the word _hospital._ "Y-yes?"

"We're calling about Heracles Karpusi. There's been an accident."

I was at the hospital within ten minutes. I was panting and my heart was racing and I couldn't feel my legs because I had run faster than I ever had in my life, but I was there. I was there, and I was absolutely terrified. A thousand scenarios and a thousand more outcomes were running through my head faster than I could process them, but most of the outcomes involved a grave at the end. I was practically shaking with fear, and I couldn't stand not knowing _anything._

I walked as calmly as I could to the front desk and swallowed heavily as a wave of nerves washed over me. What if he wasn't alright? What if they wouldn't let me see him because I wasn't technically family?

I shook those thoughts off and forced myself forward. The receptionist looked up, a welcoming smile on her face despite the cold, too-sterile atmosphere of the rest of the room. I hated hospitals.

"Hello, my name is Elizaveta Hedervary. What can I help you with?" She had a slight accent, maybe Hungarian, and she sounded as cheerful as her smile.

"Um, y-yes, I got a call about Heracles…" I said nervously, trying to keep my voice loud enough to be heard.

Her face fell a bit, and my heart plummeted. "Oh. Are you Kiku?"

I nodded and she stood up, smiling reassuringly. "Why don't we go sit down for a moment?"

I felt like crying as she led me over to one of the red plastic chairs. A girl with short blonde hair and a blue ribbon in her hair came to take her place at the desk. We sat down and she gently took my hand, her face grave. The last time I had seen someone make that expression was when the person at the hospital had come to told me that I had called the ambulance too late to save Yao. It didn't give me a good feeling to see it again.

"Well, Kiku, this might be hard to hear, but… Heracles got hit by a car,"

Everything froze. My heart, my body, everything. I couldn't help but let out a broken gasp. Another car. Another person I cared about had been taken from me by a car. _Oh god, no, please no._

"…Kiku, don't worry. He's fine. He's awake right now, and asking for you. That's why we called." Slowly, Elizaveta's voice came back into focus, and things unfroze. He was okay. Everything would be alright.

"Oh thank god," I breathed, and she smiled softly.

"I can take you to him if you want,"

I nodded almost desperately, but I didn't care at that point. I needed to see him. I needed to see with my own eyes that he was really okay, that she hadn't just been telling me that to keep me from bursting into hysterics—because I knew that's what I would've done if she had said anything else.

She stood up and smiled at me one last time before leading me down the sterile white hallways of the hospital. It was hard to keep myself from running aimlessly around and shouting his name until I found him; instead I wrung my hands anxiously and walked after the Elizaveta. She stopped in front of one of many identical doors and knocked softly.

"Mr. Karpusi? You have a visitor." She smiled at me and walked back toward the waiting room.

I eased the door open almost hesitantly, my fear washed away almost instantly by relief when I saw Heracles propped up in the bed, smiling gently. He was _alive._ He was alive. He was okay. He wasn't leaving me. I almost flung myself at him, but I held myself back because I didn't know if he was injured or what the extent of the injuries were. Instead, I sat down on the edge of the bed as gently as I could, twining my fingers with his.

"Oh god, Heracles, I was so worried. They just called me and I got here as fast as I could and then they told me that you had gotten hit by a _car_ and I—oh, god, Heracles, I thought—" I choked on my words as the tears I had been holding back since the initial phone call finally spilled over. Heracles pulled me close, wincing slightly as I fell against his chest but I knew he didn't want me to see his pain, so I pretended not to. I melted into his embrace for a few moments, before wiping my tears and pulling away.

He was smiling. After everything he had been through—after everything I had put him through—he was still able to smile so gently, so kindly at me. "It's alright, Kiku. I promised you, didn't I? I promised you that I would be with you forever. And I _never_ break my promises.

I couldn't resist the smile pulling at the corners of my mouth. I leaned forward again, being careful of his chest, and buried my face in the crook of his neck. We stayed like that until a nurse came in to tell me that visiting hours were over and shooed me out of his room.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Heracles' POV

It took about a month and a half for my broken rib to heal, and going back to school was hell. I could hear every single whisper now, see every strange glance sent Kiku's way. I didn't know how I hadn't heard it before, but I knew that it made me angry with each soft word that grated on my senses.

 _Slut. Fag. Bitch. Creep. Freak._ The list went on and on and Kiku just ignored it all, keeping his head down and his eyes on the floor. I shot glares at the ones giggling and whispering at him, and it gave me a dark sense of pride to see them go pale and scurry away. I could practically see their tails between their legs, the cowards.

That went on for about two weeks before Kiku didn't come to school. Worried, I called his cell, but he didn't pick up. The rest of the day was a blur of fear and dread and the feeling that something was very, very wrong.

I was out of the building as soon as the bell for the end of school rang. I tried for what felt like the hundredth time to call him, but that time, he picked up.

"Kiku, where are you? Are you alright? What happened? Why weren't you at school?" My questions were fast and frantic, and I knew that he could hear my panic.

I froze as soon as I heard his sobs. They were broken and jagged, and it sounded like he had been crying for a while.

"Kiku, what's wrong?" my heart was pounding as I started to run, faster than I had ever had reason or motivation to, in the direction of his house.

"H-he…. Heracles, he found out. He f-found out ab-bout the trip to G-Greece…" He whimpered and I willed myself to run faster, wishing that I could be there instantly.

"Oh no…oh god. Kiku, are you alright?" My voice shook with my fear for Kiku and my fury at his father.

He swallowed, clearly holding back more tears. "It hurts, Heracles. I can't… I can't move. I can't—I'm scared."

My heart clenched painfully and I rounded the corner onto his street. His voice was shaky and raw, like he had been talking—or screaming—for a long time. I had to get to him. I had to keep him safe.

"Don't worry, Kiku. It'll be okay. Just stay calm, okay? I'll be right there."

It took him a second to fully register what I had said, but when he did he seemed to panic. "N-no! Don't come anywhere near my house! He'll hurt you! Don't worry, I promise I'll be fine, but just _don't_ come to my house. Please…"

"A bit late for that," I muttered under my breath, away from the phone so that he couldn't hear me, then turned back to the speaker. "I don't care if he slaps me around a bit, you could be in serious danger. I'm not going to let you stay there alone, at least not tonight."

A choked sob came from the other end of the line as I slowed to a stop in front of his house. "…I don't want you to see me like this, Heracles,"

His voice was soft and held a tone of defeat. I sighed softly; it was reasonable, but he didn't have anything to worry about. Nothing I could see or hear would ever make me think any less of him.

"It's alright, Kiku. I promise, everything will be fine. Now, tell me something—is your window unlocked?"

He paused, obviously confused. "Um…yes? Why do you need to know?"

I chuckled softly, circling around the back of the house. I found an old ladder in the backyard, almost completely hidden by the too-long grass, and propped it up precariously against the house, hoping that the thump wasn't audible from inside the house.

"Um… Heracles, please tell me that was you," Kiku said hesitantly.

I wedged my phone between my ear and my shoulder so I could adjust the ladder. "Yeah, that's me. Sorry about the noise; just give me a second."

Kiku stuttered a few more times before sighing softly like he had resigned himself to my invasion of his room, though I could hear him giggle softly. It was good to know that even when everything seemed hopeless and he was in so much pain he literally could not move, he still had the strength to laugh.

Eventually I lined up the ladder properly, then took the risk of climbing up it and to the second story window. It was shaky and definitely not the safest idea, but Kiku was suffering and like hell would I let him suffer alone.

I forced open the window and promptly fell flat on my face as I tumbled through the opening in the wall that was way too small for me to have any grace in getting through. I heard a squeak of surprise, then a soft but pained laugh from the other side of the room and looked up.

Kiku was curled up on the bed, looking very small and frail against the pale blue sheets. He was watching me with wide, fearful eyes, but there was a soft smile on his face that told me that he wasn't afraid of me. I stood up, smiling sheepishly, and walked over to him, sitting down gingerly on the side of the bed. He winced as the mattress dipped.

The smile fell from my face as I got a closer look at him. He was flushed, and it was hard to tell the difference between sweat and tears on his face. His eyes were red a puffy, like he had been crying, and he seemed to be trying as hard as he could not to move. I leaned down and wrapped my arms around him, feeling him wince a bit but quickly latch onto me. He curled up a bit more, hiding his face in my shirt. I knew he was ashamed of himself, I knew that he thought he was weak, but I couldn't even think of considering him with anything but kindness and the affection that he deserved so much.

"It's alright, I'm here. You're safe now, Kiku." I murmured softly, and he nodded.

"I know… I just don't want you to see me like this…" he muttered, and I sighed softly.

I gently traced my fingers along his cheek, my touch making him look up and meet my eyes. "There's nothing to be ashamed of. You're not to blame for this. You are still Kiku, and you are still perfect, no matter what. You have absolutely no reason to be anything but proud about who you are."

He gave me a grateful smile, but it quickly slipped from his face as he caught sight of something over my shoulder. His eyes went wide and all color drained from his face. I turned around when he started trembling.

The first thing I noticed was the gun pointed at my face. It looked like it was in pretty crappy shape, but I was sure that it would still shoot. My eyes didn't have to travel far for me to see Kiku's father, a drunken, cruel smirk set onto his face.

"Look at this. The slut's friend showed back up." He slurred drunkenly.

I felt Kiku's hands shake against my chest and I subtly moved my one of my hands to my back pocket. I had an idea of how to get out of that situation, but if it didn't work, both Kiku and I could end up dead.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Heracles' POV

I stared into the barrel of the gun, keeping myself carefully expressionless. The entire room seemed to stand still, Kiku clinging to me, his father glaring at me, and my own lack of reaction. Everyone seemed to know that the slightest movement would set off a chain reaction that no one would be able to stop.

I decided to be the one to call checkmate. I grabbed a heavy-looking lamp from Kiku's bedside table and flung it as hard as I could at Kiku's dad. To keep it from hitting him, he pointed the gun at it and shot; it blew into tiny shards of glass that flew everywhere. It only took an instant, but it was all I needed. I was almost instantly in front of the bastard, and my fist connected to his nose with a satisfying _crack._ He reeled back in shock, blood dripping from his nose, but I didn't even pause. I slammed into him with enough force to knock his head into the wall. With another satisfying noise, he sank to the ground. I couldn't tell if he was unconscious or not, but it was good enough for me. I hadn't even known I had had enough strength to take him out; I had mostly just been hoping he'd been too stunned to react in time. Luckily, it had worked out in my favor.

I dove for my phone again, the possibility of him waking up pressing down on me as I fumbled to dial 911. Kiku hid against my chest as I kept a careful eye on his father. The dial tone rang once, twice, before the operator picked up.

"Hello, how can I help you?" a calm female voice intoned with a careful practice.

"I need to speak to the police department to report a rape," I had to choke that last word out and Kiku looked up at me, his eyes wide and panicked. I pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead as I was transferred.

I gave the police the address and hung up, knowing that they'd be there soon to get that horrible man out of Kiku's life. Kiku looked pale and terrified, like he didn't want anyone else to know what he had been through, and that made sense, but I couldn't let it go on any longer. The sheets were sticky with blood and _other_ fluids, and I could see stains that indicated that it had gone on for much longer than it should have. The man had abused Kiku's brother for years, driven that brother to suicide, and then proceeded to abuse Kiku himself and hold me at gunpoint. There was no way I would let him go unpunished. I just couldn't let Kiku keep suffering like that.

They had said that there would be police at the house in ten minutes, and I figured it would be a bit more, but I didn't count on Kiku's dad waking up. Barely a minute after I had hung up the phone, he groaned and sat up, glaring at me. There was a bit of blood trickling from the back of his head, but I honestly didn't care. The bastard deserved it, after all the pain he had caused Kiku.

He grabbed his gun, which I had stupidly not picked up, and pointed it back at my head. He sneered as he wobbled a bit, still neither sober nor completely steady on his feet.

"So," he leered, the gun wavering in his grip, "You're not only annoying but stupid? You knocked me out and didn't run… idiot. You're as bad as the little bitch you're protecting."

I growled softly, gently moving in front of Kiku so that he couldn't be the target of any of his father's physical attacks. "No, I didn't leave because _Kiku can't move._ And I am _not_ going to leave him alone with you."

The man snarled angrily and the safety on the gun clicked off. "He deserves it. He killed his mother and his brother."

I narrowed my eyes and tried to restrain the anger building in my chest. Kiku wrapped his thin arms around my waist and buried his face in my chest; I couldn't tell if it was as a warning to me or to keep himself from breaking down.

"You're the one that ran the red light that killed his mom, and Yao committed suicide because of you and the rest of this god-forsaken town. _None_ of this is Kiku's fault. You have _no reason_ to be such an ass."

He laughed darkly and I felt a chill run up my spine. "You're only saying that because he let you get into his pants, like the little whore he is. How many times have you fucked him silly?"

I snarled, shaking with barely contained fury. The only thing keeping me from jumping at the man and probably getting my head blown off was Kiku's hold. _"None,_ you perverted bastard."

He laughed again and shook his head. "Maybe you'd like to tell me, you little bitch?"

I could tell that he was referring to Kiku, who flinched and tightened his grip around my middle.

"W-we haven't—"

His father cut him off, stepping forward and raising a hand. "Bullshit!"

I flinched, preparing for a blow that would never come.

The police couldn't have picked a better moment to come in. They slammed through the door and surrounded Kiku's father, guns much bigger, newer, and more frightening than his all pointed at his chest. His eyes widened and he growled at us, his pupils dilating in anger.

"You called the cops? You little bastard! I'll get you for this!"

"Drop the gun, sir. You're under arrest." One of the policemen, a man with an English accent and huge eyebrows, spoke up.

"Not a chance!" Kiku's father lifted the gun, glaring defiantly at the man. Several of the officers lunged forward, trying to grab the gun. Before they could move more than half a step, he pulled the trigger.

 _Bang._

Kiku screamed.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18: Epilogue: Kiku's POV

The funeral was two weeks later. I stood in front of the grave, wondering why no tears would come. Then again, I had cried enough for several lifetimes in the last few weeks. Maybe I had just run out of tears.

The grave was next to Yao's. Might as well make visits to graves an easy, one-stop trip, right? Then again, I knew I probably wouldn't be visiting either grave for a while; the new one brought back too many memories.

And yet… as painful as it was, I suppose I had the person buried next to Yao to thank for the happiness that I had somehow manage to scrounge from the gutter of my life. It was amazing that he could have led me to the kindness and love of the man standing beside me, despite all that he had put me through.

After the funeral, I stood staring at the graves of my brother and father, my hand in Heracles', reliving the past few weeks in my head. I had witnessed yet another brutal suicide, and I still had nightmares about the contents of my father's head splattering across my bedroom wall. Heracles was always there, though. Even when I had been in the hospital for the multiple wounds _he_ had done to me, he had stayed by my side almost constantly. Mostly, we just sat in silence, our fingers and legs twined as he laid next to me. The doctors had given us weird looks, but a glare from Heracles had made sure they kept their comments to themselves. When he was angry, yes, he was terrifying, but he wasn't ever angry at me. Watching him and my father fight had been one of the most frightening experiences of my life, even after all the trauma I had gone through at the hands of the man who raised me. Still, Heracles was a gentle, warm presence that was always by my side, anchoring me and reminding me that there was still some good in the world.

After the funeral, I moved back to Greece with Heracles. There was nothing for either of us to stay for, and Akantha was frantic when she heard what happened to me. Still, being smothered and coddled in the most motherly way possible wasn't anything I would complain about.

We lived there for a while; I had to learn the language and it was difficult at first, but Heracles was there to help me. When we decided that it was time to start over completely, in a place no one had ever seen us before, we moved to New York. There, we got married—finally. To my surprise, we found Alfred Jones and Ivan Braginsky—two of the people who had been the biggest part of my hell when I was younger—running a foster home. Ivan had recognized me immediately and started to apologize profusely, and I could clearly see that Alfred had had a profound effect on his personality. It was cute.

We eventually got past it, Heracles and I even adopted a child from their home. It was a little boy from Korea, named Im Yong Soo, and he was—and still is—as dear to me as Heracles. Luckily, he didn't have a cat allergy; Heracles still insisted on taking in every stray cat he saw. I didn't mind, and neither did out son, so our house was pretty much covered in a rainbow of cat hair at all times.

I love it, though. I love the city. I love the house. I love Heracles. I love Im Yong Soo. I love everything. All the hate—toward myself, toward my family, toward other people—that used to be my automatic response to everything, had been replaced with pure, unconditional love. .

And I would not change it for anything. Not the sky, not the stars, not the moon. I have everything I could ever need, and nothing could ever change it. I will not let anything change it. I have my heaven, and I still love it even though I had to go through hell for it. I love it more because of that, actually.

I love it.


End file.
